Front Cover
 Front Matter
 The masters' lesson
 What the bugle tells on a...
 "Grizzly Phil"
 Old heads on young shoulders
 The elephant and the giraffe
 In June
 A hungry customer
 The story of Marco Polo
 When the cows come home
 Talks with boys and girls about...
 Out of season
 Sindbad, Smith & co.
 Said the rose to the pink
 New Mother Goose jingles
 A curious stairway
 The lost princess
 A weather receipt
 The swordmaker's son
 Rain song
 Uncle Ted's mascot
 The fairies trolley
 To cloverley
 About grandmama Gray
 Make-believe town
 Clarissy Ann and the flood
 Spring has come across the...
 Baseball (illustration)
 Paper-doll poems
 Rhymes of the states: Alaska
 The fairy godmother: Report concerning...
 The letter-box
 The riddle-box
 Back Cover

Title: St. Nicholas
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00065513/00312
 Material Information
Title: St. Nicholas
Uniform Title: St. Nicholas (New York, N.Y.)
Alternate Title: Saint Nicholas
Physical Description: 68 v. : ill. ; 25-30 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Publisher: Scribner
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: -c1943
Frequency: monthly
Subject: Children's literature -- Periodicals   ( lcsh )
Genre: periodical   ( marcgt )
Dates or Sequential Designation: -v. 67, no. 4 (Feb. 1940) ; v. 70, no. 1 (Mar. 1943)-v. 70, no. 4 (June 1943).
Dates or Sequential Designation: Began with: Vol. 1, no. 1, Nov. 1873.
Numbering Peculiarities: Suspended Mar. 1940-Feb. 1943; vols. 68-69 omitted.
Issuing Body: Published by: Century, Aug. 1881- ; by Educational Pub. Corp. -1940; by St. Nicholas Magazine, 1943.
General Note: Description based on: Vol. 2, no. 12 (Oct. 1875); title from cover.
General Note: Conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00065513
Volume ID: VID00312
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 01764817
lccn - 04012675
 Related Items
Preceded by: Our young folks
Preceded by: Children's hour (Philadelphia, Penn.)
Preceded by: Little corporal
Preceded by: Schoolday magazine
Preceded by: Wide awake

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
        Front Cover 3
    Front Matter
        Front Matter
        Page 618
    The masters' lesson
        Page 619
        Page 620
        Page 621
        Page 622
        Page 623
    What the bugle tells on a war-ship
        Page 624
        Page 625
        Page 626
        Page 627
        Page 628
        Page 629
    "Grizzly Phil"
        Page 630
        Page 631
        Page 632
        Page 633
        Page 634
    Old heads on young shoulders
        Page 635
        Page 636
    The elephant and the giraffe
        Page 637
        Page 638
    In June
        Page 639
    A hungry customer
        Page 639
    The story of Marco Polo
        Page 640
        Page 641
        Page 642
        Page 643
        Page 644
        Page 645
        Page 646
        Page 647
    When the cows come home
        Page 648
    Talks with boys and girls about themselves
        Page 649
        Page 650
    Out of season
        Page 651
    Sindbad, Smith & co.
        Page 652
        Page 653
        Page 654
        Page 655
        Page 656
        Page 657
    Said the rose to the pink
        Page 658
        Page 659
    New Mother Goose jingles
        Page 660
    A curious stairway
        Page 661
        Page 662
        Page 663
    The lost princess
        Page 664
        Page 665
        Page 666
        Page 667
        Page 668
        Page 669
        Page 670
    A weather receipt
        Page 671
    The swordmaker's son
        Page 672
        Page 673
        Page 674
        Page 675
        Page 676
        Page 677
        Page 678
    Rain song
        Page 679
    Uncle Ted's mascot
        Page 680
        Page 681
        Page 682
        Page 683
    The fairies trolley
        Page 684
        Page 685
    To cloverley
        Page 686
    About grandmama Gray
        Page 687
    Make-believe town
        Page 687
    Clarissy Ann and the flood
        Page 688
        Page 689
        Page 690
    Spring has come across the farm
        Page 691
    Baseball (illustration)
        Page 692
    Paper-doll poems
        Page 693
        Page 694
        Page 695
        Page 696
    Rhymes of the states: Alaska
        Page 697
    The fairy godmother: Report concerning the prize puzzle
        Page 698
        Page 699
        Page 700
    The letter-box
        Page 701
        Page 702
    The riddle-box
        Page 703
        Page 704
        Page 705
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text

I ; Ill I

'ii, I.







VOL. XXIII. JUNE, 1896. No. 8.
Copyright, 1896, by THE CENTURY Co. All rights reserved.



UP within the study tower
Sits the little gold-haired king;
Pondering, conning, hour by hour,
O'er the tasks his teachers bring.
In the world beyond the window, buds and laughs a day of spring.

All about him sit his teachers,
Ranged in silent, studious rows.
Spectacles shine, round and gleaming,
On each wise and lengthy nose.
Outside sings a bird, a-darting, all the springtide news he knows.

Restless with a childish longing
To enjoy the sweet Spring day,
Cried the little king, upstarting:
Let me rest awhile, I pray;
For a space lay by the lessons, I should like to go and play! "

Solemn glances of amazement
Met his royal highness' whim,
Stern they frowned them, all the masters,
From behind each glasses' rim.
Spake aloud the stern head master -his a presence grave and grim:


y, T"o' .V r-- ..-:-- .,-
-y "
wV ,.
-0 ^J _


"Know, most gracious Royal Highness,
Till the time of recreation
We must still adhere to study,
And continue recitation.
We should view the Solar System and the
Law of Gravitation."

Up the king stood flushing red,
Back he tossed his curls.
"Of this plodding I am weary-
It may do for churls!
Up within this gloomy tower
Shut with teachers stern,-
There must be a better way
for a king to learn!

"When we play at quoits, all know
I may stand more near.
I may shoot my arrow first
When we hunt the deer.
Things are easy made for me
at my work or play;
I shall seek for those who '11 teach me
in a king's own way!"

Quick he tossed his silken cap
Atop his yellow hair;
Laughing, dancing, down he sprang
The twisting tower-stair.

Down the stretching sunny roads,
Blithe of heart, went he-
Through the orchards, fair with bloom,
laughing loud in glee.

"All things here are fresh and sweet!"
Sang he, clear and high.
"Who shall shut a king away
From the wide blue sky ?
Little wood-birds, sing aloud!
Dance, green leaves, always
Sing and dance, we '11 all be glad -
it is my holiday!"

O'er the wide and sunlit meadows, through
the orchards fair,
Sped the little King a-laughing neathh his
sunny hair.




_ ~~
__ L--=C


"'' "Up within the study
Sat the teachers all
.. .. amazed;
,, Wond'ring, when the
Asking had van-
/Z 11' ,. ished,
Al.- Down the tower stair
/ : they gazed.
-- All their eyes rolled wide
in wonder, every
e I,,-wrinkled hand
... was raised.

"" Then arising, all the
Donned each solemn
gown and cap,
Clambered, awkward,
,,, down the stair-

1 Roused the warder
from his nap.



Each held fast a learned volume closely
guarded againstt mishap.

Forth they went--a strange procession--
In the glad and sunny day;
Blinked their eyes, their feet they stumbled,
O'er the field and orchard way.
Many years, in sooth, had vanished
since the masters' holiday.

Wond'ring, looked they down the valley,
Listened to the wood-bird's call;
Heard the brook a-dropping, dancing,
Saw the blue sky over all.
"There are fair sights here, full surely,"
whispered now the teachers tall.

"Pr'ythee, stay thee, Master Knowall;
We are spent with this swift pace.
Let us view the sights about us,
Let us rest a little space."
Down they dropped them on the moss-beds,
each exhausted with the race.

- 9~

But that oldest, sternest master,
Looking not to left or right,
Still strode sternly up the hillside,
On through shade and sweet sunlight.
Far away his long cloak fluttered,
and he vanished from their sight.

When the king came weary-footed
Through the falling shadows late,
All amazed, he saw the masters,
Not with book and solemn state,
But in merry converse gathered neathh the
frowning castle gate.

Now the masters frown no longer;
The small king ne'er runs away;
They have taught themselves a lesson
Which their grave books do not say.
When the sunlight falls most fair,
And all sweet sounds fill the air,
King and masters lay their books by,
and they all make holiday.

,..,,,,.. /


5 /4




MANY of you know what an important part
the bugle plays in military operations on shore:
how it assembles vast bodies of men, deploys
them for battle, regulates their fire, and sounds
the charge, which even dumb animals under-
stand and obey, in a desperate rush for victory.
The voice of the commander gives the order;
but since his voice can reach only those near
him, the bugle takes it up, and carries it in
piercing notes to the most distant ear.
So, too, on board of a man-of-war the bugle
is used to make an order penetrate the utter-
most parts of the ship, from deck to hold, from
stem to stern, and from quarterdeck to mast-
head. From morning till night it is calling
officers and men to routine duties, and in battle
it is directing nearly their every movement, and
inspiring them to their utmost endeavor.
Let us spend a day on board of a man-of-war,
and see how this is done. Let us suppose that
she is in port. We take our place on her deck
very early in the morning. The heavens are
bright with stars, and about us masts and rig-
ging, smoke-stacks and ventilators, rise up in
shadowy outlines, while the big guns loom ill-
defined and ghostlike. In the gangways senti-
nels are pacing; on the bridge a quartermaster
keeps his lookout; and back and forth on the
quarterdeck paces an officer, alone. By the
light of a lantern he presently consults a book
for the "morning orders," which have been
written by the executive officer the night before;
and then he directs the quartermaster to call

the boatswain's mate, the hammock-stowers,
the master-at-arms, and the bugler. Then
passes a period of ten minutes, during which a
few shadowy figures appear on deck, and take
their stand beside the long, trough-like places
in the ship's bulwarks known as the hammock-
nettings, opening them up and preparing them
for the reception of the hammocks. Then, at
the time assigned in the morning orders, the
officer of the deck gives his first routine order:
"Sound the reveille! Call all hands!"
At once there ring out in the hitherto silent
ship those merry bugle-notes known to almost
all of us:



To them have been fitted the words:
I can't get 'em up;
I can't get 'em up;
I can't get 'em up in the morning.
I can't get 'em up;
I can't get 'em up;
I can't get 'em up at all!

The captain's worse than the sergeant;
The sergeant's worse than the corp'ral;
The corp'ral's worse than the private;
But the major 's the worst of all!



I can't get 'em up;
I can't get 'em up;
I can't get 'em up in the morning. t
I can't get 'em up;
I can't get 'em up;
I can't get 'em up at all!

The last note is followed by the shrill whistle
of a boatswain's mate and the prolonged, hoarse
cry: "A-a-a-11 ha-a-nds!"
Then on the decks below you can hear the
master-at-arms rushing from hammock to ham-
mock, giving the sluggards a slap and a shake,
and repeatedly crying:
Heave out; heave out and lash up!"
Run below and watch the feet and legs
dangling from the swinging hammocks; see
the sailors drop from them to the deck, like
bats from the limbs of trees, then neatly fold
their blankets, roll them up with the mattress
in the hammocks, and pass around the latter
seven times a rope-lashing, until each resem-
bles a huge sausage. Then, unslinging them
from the hooks overhead, they carry them
hastily on deck to the nettings; for in ten
minutes after that
bugle-call of reveille
every hammock must .- ---
be stowed away, and -'-
any one who comes
later with his hammock
is reported for punish-
ment by the officer of -_ -
the deck to the captain.
Coffee is now served A SHIP'S
out, and for fifteen minutes the sailors sit and
sip it before beginning the morning work of
scrubbing decks and cleaning ship. This work
should be finished by five minutes to eight,
when the bugle sounds the first call for colors:

upon which the quartermaster bends on the
flag to the halyards of the flagstaff at the
stern, and a signal-boy does the same with
the "jack at the bow, and both stand ready to
hoist them at eight o'clock. A little period of
waiting follows, and then eight o'clock is re-

orted by an orderly to the officer of the deck,
vho sends the orderly to report it to the cap-
ain. Presently the orderly returns and reports:
The captain says, Make it,' sir."
Thereupon the officer of the deck orders:
"Sound off!"
Then ring out the clear, majestic notes of
:he Salute to the flag,* while all men about the
deck face it as it soars with dignity aloft and
floats out to the morning breeze; officers and
men touching their caps in reverential salute
as it comes to rest and the music dies away in
long, full notes.
Breakfast follows, and upon its completion
at a quarter to nine o'clock the bugle sounds
Quick. k 3


the Sick-call, when those men whose names
are already on the sick-list and those seeking
to get on it repair to the "sick-bay," and con-
sult the surgeon on duty.

Meanwhile there sounds another call which
means "Clean bright work." t Then tarpau-
lins are spread upon the decks around the
guns, rags, oil, and brick-dust are produced,.
and the crew at once become busily engaged in
cleaning and polishing the glittering brasswork
of hand-rails, deck-fittings, and gun-mounts,.
until the call:

tells that the time for such work has expired,
and they must clear up the deck for quarters

* See the headpiece. f See the illustration on page 627.


and drills. The call to quarters usually be-
gins with the drum-beat and ends with the bugle-
notes of Assembly ":

This is the most inspiriting, rallying of all the
bugle calls. Once, when encamped with one
hundred men in a tropical jungle on the Isth-
mus of Panama, surrounded by hostile people,
we were so suddenly surprised in the dead of
night that our men sprang up in panic, over-
turning their stacks of arms without taking
them, and fleeing wildly in all directions in
spite of the orders and even threats of their
officers. All seemed lost in a disgraceful rout,
when our captain chanced to catch the flying
bugler, and, holding him fast, ordered him to
sound the Assembly. Then was seen the magic
of that military call, reaching the ear of every
panic-stricken sailor and marine with its appeal
to their manhood and duty and its strangely in-
spiriting reassurance. The flight into the jungle
was instantly stayed and turned into a rush to
arms, and in less than a minute every man
was at his post of duty, with arms in hand,
fearless and heartily ashamed of his folly.

There is one other call to quarters on board
ship even more imperative than the assem-
bly, but its notes are high and rapid, like a
It means: "To the guns! Cast loose and
provide !" (see the illustration) and is sounded
without warning by day or night. No muster is
awaited then; every man flies to his station and
the guns are cleared away and loaded without
waiting for an order, for the call means that the
enemy is at hand.
Short bugle calls then follow in action which
relate to the handling of the guns, such as
" Silence: "

"Commence firing":

"Cease firing":
Quick. "

"Secure ":






After the guns are secured and everything
is made snug and tidy, the men stand quietly
at their stations until they are dismissed by
the call:

==-v-l--. i

The call to "General quarters" is often
sounded on a man-of-war in the dead of night
for practice. Then officers and men spring
from their bunks and hammocks; the men rush
with their hammocks, half lashed, to the nettings,
then hasten to their guns, cast them loose, load,
and fire a blank charge (powder only); and all
this can usually be done in less than ten minutes.
Another call which must be promptly obeyed
is that to "Man and arm boats" :

When this is sounded, boats' crews supply
their boats with provisions, water, ammunition,
and rifles, and the larger boats with Gatling-
guns and howitzers, and prepare to make a



landing on a hostile coast, or to attack and
take possession of an enemy's ship. Each
boat, too, in a man-of-war, has its own bugle-
call, which, when sounded, calls her crew to
man that boat alone, for ordinary purposes of
traffic. Thus the call for a launch is:

the call for a cutter is:

that for a whale-boat is:

that for a barge:

----- _-- ----_____ --'

that for a gig:

S --




For miscellaneous drills other than great
guns, boats, or battalion, there is the Drill call":




and that for a dinghy is sounded as follows:

The barge is the admiral's boat, and the gig is
the captain's boat. If there is more than one
boat of any class, one, two, or more "G's" be-
fore and after the call will indicate which boat
of the class is called. When a boat is hooked
on to her falls for hoisting, the notes

call every sailor on board to man the falls and
hoist the boat up to her place above the deck.


and the "Recall" from drill:

At noon is sounded the "Mess call" for
officers' breakfast:

Sailors and soldiers alike have fitted these
words to the notes:

Soupey, soupey, soup, soup
Without a single bean;
Porkey, porkey, pork, pork
Without a streak of lean;
Coffee, coffee, cof-fee,
The vilest ev-er see-n!

The First call" is sounded again five min-
utes before sundown, when the ensign and the
jack-halyards are manned, and a stay-light
made ready for hoisting to indicate the ship's
whereabouts during the night. Then the Color-
call follows at sundown as the flag is lowered,
and saluted by all as it reaches the deck. The
Assembly is then sounded for evening quarters
and muster, but there is no drill.
As a rule, it is just after sunset when the bugle
call is sounded to Stand by hammocks."
That brings all the crew on deck, and they
stand in silence close out to the ship's side be-
side the hammock nettings, in two ranks facing
the stern, until the boatswain's mate reports to
the officer of the deck, All up and aft." The
latter then orders, Uncover! Pipe down!"




I '\ ,'


and in obedience to this order and the boat-
swain's whistle the nettings are thrown open,
and the hammocks are served out and taken be-
low to their proper places. Each hammock has
printed on it a number, and that same number
is on the hooks below
decks where that ham-
mock has to be swung,
so that each man sleeps
in the same place every
night, and that place is
called his "billet."
Unless, now, a boat
is called away there will
be no more bugle calls
until five minutes of '
nine o'clock. The pe-
riod is one of corn-
plete r .cl.:'-:i..n, and is -
spent by the -.=.i:-s
in smoking, spinning
yarns, singing, playing g
on musical instruments, K
and :1- r,:in At five '
minutes of nine the '
First call is again '-.
sounded as a warning
to the Cre to pre-
pare to m into their
[, *j.ii, n .... .-l.. a d go to : :..,
. ,-[-' ,'i.,: at nine
o'clock comes the call
known as "Tattoo":
4V__ me _49

l- _- _

F aae.

* 0-a c


_ -~-~

Z.;Z1r 1

we~ -
- .' '-

This Tattoo is the survival of an old custom.
In the old navy" it used to last fifteen min-
utes, and was performed with drum and fife,
playing all manner of airs and quicksteps ac-
cording to the fancy or ingenuity of the drum-



mer and fifer. It is even said to have been
handed down from a period of superstition,
when they used to make a hullabaloo after dark
to drive the devils out of the ship. At the last
note of Tattoo the ship's bell is struck twice for
nine o'clock, and the boatswain's whistle sounds
" Pipe down." Every man must then turn into
his hammock, whether he is sleepy or not, for
an inspection is made by the master-at-arms to
see that all have done so. Then sounds that
last, long, mournful call, "Taps ":

,-F--'-.J E. ..





ANYBODY hearing such a title as Grizzly
Phil," and knowing that the bearer of the title
was a denizen of Colorado, would very natu-
rally suppose that the person referred to must
be either a mighty hunter or a noted desperado.
As it happens he was neither the one nor the
other, but just a quiet-mannered school-boy of

In a certain city which lies, like an embroid-
ered tassel in the fringe of the Great American
Desert, at the foot of the most eastern of the
manifold ranges into which the great Rocky
Mountains are divided, there stood, and still
stands, I hope, "The St. Vrain Academy for
boys and young men. Principal: The Rever-
end Octavius Stamford," and when we, the
pupils, reassembled after one Christmas vaca-
tion we found that a new member had been
added to our company. He was a small but
stocky fellow, Philip Lindsey by name, who
had been sent all that long way from his home
near the Atlantic coast for the benefit of living in
the invigorating air of Colorado.
At first he was rather a puzzle to me; he had
such odd ways. He shared my bedroom in the
Chief's house,- the Reverend Octavius was
The Chief,"- and the very first morning after
his arrival, waking up while it was still almost
dark, I was surprised to see him standing at the
window, staring out at the mountains.
What are you doing ? I asked. It is n't
getting-up time yet."
Looking at the sunrise," he replied. "Just
come here; it's splendid."
S Sunrise I said, laughing. Why, the sun
does n't rise in the west."
No, I know," he answered; but do just
come and see."
So I got out of bed, rubbing my eyes, and
went to look. It was pretty fine, certainly. It
was night yet, down where we were, but up

there in the sky, high above us, the snow-cov-
ered summit of the great Peak was shining in
the light of the sun which would not rise, to us,
for another hour or more, and looking, as Phil
said, like a rose-colored lamp, or, as I thought,
like a red silk umbrella with a candle inside it.
But standing about barefoot, at six o'clock
on a winter's morning, thinking up poetical
ideas, was not much to my taste, so I hopped
back into bed again, leaving Phil to admire his
red lamp by himself as long as it suited him to
do so.
Another time, one Saturday, when we had
gone off together for a long day's climb among
the mountains, I missed my companion and,
going back to look for him, found him sitting
on a rock with his chin in his hands, gazing out
over the plains.
"What's the matter? I asked.
He gave a start as if he had been asleep, and
rising to his feet, said: Nothing. I was only
looking at the plains."
"The plains! I exclaimed, rather scorn-
fully. "What is there to look at in the
plains ?"
They look like the sea," he replied. And
so they did, when I came to think of it; and
the smoke of an out-going freight-train, hanging
on the horizon, heightened the illusion.
That was one of Phil's ways "; he was al-
ways seeing things which I had had under my
nose for the past year, and yet had never dis-
covered for myself.
In the little republic of the school Phil was
at once set down as "a stupid fellow." He
was extremely quiet and rather slow in his
movements, and having over-grown his strength
- which was the reason for his being sent to
Colorado he was, when he first arrived, easily
tired out, and seemed, to those who did not
know him well, both lazy and dull.
At first, I must admit, I shared the common

opinion; but, as I came to know him better,- know but that snails were as often left-handed
we being thrown so much together,-I dis- as not!
covered by degrees that there was a great deal It was evident that we were made upon very
more in him than any of us had suspected. different patterns, but that did not prevent our
For one thing, I soon becoming the best of
found out that his si- friid. F, Ioi m'l, sul his
lence and slowness of -a. v.,re a i-,u :le
movement were largely to Ine, and III i,-deas
the effect of his habit Irq .untlIy rn mi.,rIe-
of watching the wild en..b, thele s
birds and animals, of one tling ab,:tt Phil
which there were many ..- whi,- I m l,1
that were strange to i, I c:uld
him, and of which he ,en er n, eibl
very soon knew more enor, p ah e- Iu- eas a
than all the rest of us thoroughh i- e er.-
put together. His pa- I .. in t.
tience was wonderful. A Am,,ng the board-
He would spend a sCe e!; in t[he Chief's
whole afternoon lying h U:of e there as
in the sun, without a l s ll
sound or movement, a built and round-
watching the antics of
a group of prairie-dogs. k% ,-: -". e, e.nt Ie n
He collected all sorts n ~ m d T C_ r! n
of objectionable grubs, .4- Dienkn-,op, the
which he kept in our -I., _.-ect boy
bedroom his chief -.. in the
treasure being a hairy
old tarantula that dwelt .
in a glass-covered box
in the wash-stand draw-
er. And when his mu-
seum was discovered
by the matron and
promptly ejected, he made ii,.: :.:.rim
plaint but at once set abl-,ut mak-
ing a new collection.
Not that Phil could not get excited on occa-
sion; but then the occasions seemed to me such
odd ones.
He came rushing up to the bedroom one
evening in a most unusual hurry, and, produc-
ing a pill-box from his pocket, begged me to "PHIL KEPT COMING ON SLOWLY, WITH HIIS EYES FIXED ON
come and look. I thought he had probably
found a rare bird's egg or, perhaps, even a school. He was known among us smaller boys
gold nugget. Nothing of the sort; it was by the name of "Blinkers," though we took
merely a left-handed snail-shell. good care not to call him so to his face; for
I am afraid he was rather disappointed by Blinkers was just the sort of fellow to keep
my lack of enthusiasm; but then I did not quiet until you thought he had forgotten all




about it and then to play you some trick
in revenge, generally something which made
you appear ridiculous; and if there is one
thing that disgusts a boy more than another
it is to be made ridiculous.
For some reason of his own Blinkers chose

will, followed Blinker's lead like sheep, and so
it became a received opinion in the school that
Phil was a coward.
But I, the only boy in the school who really
knew Phil, held the opposite opinion. I felt
pretty sure that, if the occasion should ever

I5I -


to think or, at any rate, to say that Phil was
a coward.
I believe that the origin of it lay in Phil's
refusal to smoke cigarettes, for the reason that
he did not care to make himself sick just for
the pleasure of breaking the rule. Thereupon
Blinkers called him a young coward," and so
the idea was started; and I have noticed that
it is much easier, sometimes, to start an idea
than to stop it. All the smaller boys, as boys

arise, Phil would be found to be a good deal
pluckier fellow than Blinkers himself; and the
event which proved that I was right and
brought the whole school round with a rush
to my way of thinking is what I set out to tell
about. Some of it I know of my own know-
ledge, and some of it I was told, having been,
part of the time, in such a position that I could
not very well see for myself.
It was in September and the Colorado sun




had done its duty and made Phil as brown of
face and stout of limb as any of us that the
geology class, consisting of the professor and ten
pupils, made an excursion into the range with
the object of taking a practical lesson among the
limestone beds at the back of Lincoln Peak.
We went off very early by train and, after a
twenty-five-mile ride, disembarked at a little
wayside station, and started off on foot up into
the mountains. Following a wagon-road, at
first we passed a little log ranch-house, and
shortly afterwards met the owner driving down
with a load of fire-wood. The professor stopped
and made some inquiries of the ranchman as to
the best course for us to follow, and then off we
started again. About a mile further on I picked
up an ax which was lying in the middle of the
road; it had undoubtedly fallen from the ranch-
man's load of wood, so I took possession of it
and carried it with me, intending to leave it with
the owner on the way back.
Soon we left the road and began climbing up
the mountain-side among the pines and aspens.
We followed a' large mountain stream until
we came to an open space where another
stream came down, and there the professor
divided his forces, sending five of us, under the
leadership of Blinkers, off to the left to bring
down some specimens of curiously colored rocks
which we could see, far above us, on the moun-
tain, while he and the other five continued, on
their course up the main stream.
Away we went,- feeling very hilarious at the
idea of making an independent expedition, even
with Blinkers for a general,- scrambling over
rocks and fallen trees, chasing squirrels and chip-
munks, throwing stones at birds and rabbits, and
behaving generally just like what we were a
parcel of school-boys.
Presently we emerged from the trees and came
out upon another little open park-like stretch of
ground. Half way across it our attention was
suddenly attracted by a stir among some high
grass, and out jumped a little, dark-colored,
short-legged animal, which looked like a woolly
pig if there be any such thing in nature.
Away it scuttled, and away we all went, with
a shout, in pursuit.
Phil happened to be some distance behind at
the moment, being busily engaged in digging a

tarantula's nest out of the ground with his knife;
but as soon as he saw what we were doing, he
came racing after us, shouting, Look out!
Look out! It's a-" We did not hear what,
we were making so much.noise ourselves.
But the little animal, whatever it wasf was too
quick for us and disappeared into some willows
while we were still twenty yards behind. The
next moment the willows waved and bent and
out bounced a great she-bear a grizzly!
With a yell of dismay, we all turned and,
scattering like a flock of sparrows when a cat
jumps into the midst of them, fled for the nearest
trees. Blinkers, quite forgetting that he was the
general of the little expeditionary force, made
such use of his long legs that he was safely up a
tree before any of the rest of us had reached one.
As for me, I never reached one at all.
In turning to run I tripped over the axe, and
though I was up again in an instant, the check
made me the last of the fugitives.
The chase was very soon over. In six jumps,
as it seemed, the great beast caught me, and,
with one blow of her paw on the middle of my
back, sent me, face downward, to the ground,
with every atom of breath driven out of my
This last circumstance was a good thing for
me; I could not have moved a muscle if I had
wished to. Consequently the bear supposed
that I was dead, and instead of tearing me up
into small pieces, as I expected, she began snif-
fing .me all over and turning me about with her
Suddenly, however, she ceased and began to
growl, and I heard Blinkers up in his tree call
out, Go back! You can't do any good. You '11
only get yourself killed, too." From which I
concluded that Blinkers and the bear had one
thought in common: they both supposed me to
be dead.
I was beginning to recover my breath a little
by this time, and in my anxiety to see what was
going forward I made a slight movement with
one arm, and in an instant the bear had that
arm between her teeth. It hurt me so horribly
that I fainted, and all.that happened afterwards
I gathered from the other boys.
Phil, when he saw me knocked down, instead
of climbing up a tree like the rest, ran back to


where I had dropped the ax and, picking it up,
advanced to my rescue.
It was a mad thing to do, there is no doubt
about that; but Phil did it and without a
thought of his own danger. It was in vain that
Blinkers called to him to go back; he did not
seem to hear, but kept coming on slowly, with
his eyes fixed on the bear, and the ax held in
readiness to strike.
The bear dropped my arm and advanced a
step, standing across my body, growling and
turning up her lips until all her great white
teeth were exposed; but still Phil came on. At
six feet distance he stopped. The bear took a
step forward, and then another, and then, with
all the strength of his body doubled by the
intense excitement of the moment, Phil struck
at her with such force and precision that he
split her skull clean in two.
But, even in dying, the bear succeeded in
doing some mischief.
With a last convulsive effort she struck out,
and, with her great claws, tore away the front
of Phil's coat, vest, and shirt, and made three
deep cuts all across his chest from the left
shoulder diagonally downward. Another inch
and Phil must certainly have been killed. As
it was, he stood for a moment swaying to and
fro, and then fell forward upon the dead body
of the bear.
I have no very clear recollection of how we
got back to town; but I know that I was in bed
for several days afterward with my arm bound
up, and my back all black and blue, and so
grievously stiff that I could not move or even
breathe without hurting myself. But I was out
again before Phil was.
It was a week later that the Chief came into
the great hall one evening, just as the boys
were about to disperse, and said he wished us
to stay for a few minutes, as he had something
to say to us. While we were whispering to-
gether and wondering what was to come he
went out and, presently, returned with Phil be-
side him.
I had found, when I came back to school,
that I was a good deal of a hero myself, but
dear me I was nothing in comparison to Phil,

naturally; and when he came in, looking rather
white-faced and not able to stand up straight
yet because of the scars on his chest, every boy
jumped up and made a rush for him. But the
Chief held up his hand and said, Gently,
boys, gently"; and so we all came up, one at a
time thirty of us- and shook hands with
him and made a lame attempt to tell him how
glad we were to see him again, and Phil blushed
and smiled and said, "Thank you, thank you,"
thirty times, and then the Chief said, Now,
Lindsey, you had better go back; you must not
try to do too much. And I want to speak to
the boys for a minute."
So Phil went out again, and the Chief,
mounting on to the little platform where his
big chair stood, looked around and said, I
am glad to see, boys, that you are all so ready
to welcome your school-fellow back again."
There was a buzz through the group of thirty
boys. "I asked you to stay over time this
evening to say this to you: You all know
how Philip Lindsey saved the life of his friend
at the certain and great risk of losing his own.
Let me tell you, boys, that it was a noble
deed, a brave, noble deed"-here our good
old Chief flushed up and his eyes sparkled as,
stretching out his right hand, he added -" and
I feel that I may safely challenge the vigorous
young State of Colorado to produce a man as
brave as this boy, your school-fellow."
The buzz went around the thirty again, louder
this time, and we all fidgeted on our seats with
anxiety to get up and shout, but once more the
Chief held up his hand, and said, One moment,
boys, I have one thing more to-tell you. To-
morrow will be a whole holiday in honor of
Philip Lindsey."
Then, with one accord, every boy sprang to
his feet, with a shout.
The old Chief smiled and nodded, and saying,
" Good-night, boys," went out and left us.
I need hardly say that the idea of Philip's be-
ing a coward was swept clean away, never to be
even thought of again; and from that time forth,
not only in the school, but in the town as well,
that silent, quiet-mannered boy was known by the
absurdly inappropriate title of Grizzly Phil."



LL of us have known
bright boys or girls
Y- who had special gifts.
In mytime at school,
I remember, there
were boys who could
work out the hardest
sums without any
trouble at all, while
most of us found the answers with difficulty.
There was among us a little chap who could
play the piano ever so well, -though he was
not more than twelve years old, and another
who could fill his slate with pictures, mostly
soldiers, as I recall them, that were to us re-
markably fine; and if you gave him a few
pieces of colored chalk to touch them up-
well, then, I do assure you, they were really
works of art.
But not to undervalue the feats of these old
schoolmates, most of them now dignified mar-
ried men with boys of their own, their talents
were but feeble gifts compared to the genius
of some of the world-famous boys about whom
I am going to tell you.
All of these young heroes were not boys, to
be sure, but they either did deeds of valor that
would well have become men of fifty years, or
they showed for music, poetry, or art, talent of
an extraordinary kind. At a time when most
young men are just beginning to enter upon their
modest careers, they shone out like dazzling
meteors in an evening sky; and if, in some in-
stances, their light went out early, the brilli-
ancy of their brief glory was left as a splendid
It was only a little shepherd boy, you will
remember, who delivered the Israelites from
the hands of the Philistines, and saved his na-
tion in a time of serious peril. The youth
David went out alone and almost empty
handed, when all the warriors of the army

were afraid, and he slew the great giant Go-
liath of Gath, whose height, the Bible tells us,
was six cubits and a span. This boy was a
born fighter, for, before he slew the giant, he
had killed a bear and a lion, when they tried
to steal his father's sheep.
But in later times, as well, there have been
several young warriors who made great names
for themselves, such, for instance as Alexander,
who won the battle of the Ceranicus at twenty-
two years of age. The great Napoleon was a
lieutenant of artillery before he was eighteen,
and a young man when he commanded the
armies of Italy. Think of it!--at the age
when our West Point cadets are graduated,
this young Corsican had held an important
command in the French armies, winning vie-
tories and laying the foundation of the most
famous military career the world has ever-seen.
In 186I, at the very beginning of our Civil
War, a young lad named William Barker Cush-
ing entered the Navy as a volunteer officer,
though he had previously been through the
Naval Academy atAnnapolis. He was only nine-
teen years old, but a braver or more reckless
sailor never grasped a cutlass or stood by a gun.
Never a fight but he was in the thick of it, never
a battle but Cushing's name was mentioned in
orders. He dared do anything that man dared.
One dark night, at Plymouth, N. C., -he- took a
boat's crew and, stealing quietly away, he crept
up beside the confederate ram "Albemarle and,
taking the chances of almost certain death, he
sank her by a torpedo fired from his steam
launch. Then he fought at Fort Fisher with
great bravery, and, what is even rarer, he used
sound judgment, securing for his command all
the fruits of the victory.
In one of the peaceful arts, we have the as-
tonishing example of the Austrian musician and
composer, Mozart. This lad was what we call
a prodigy. He was the son of the band-mas-


ter to the Archbishop of the city of Salzburg.
At four years of age-and you will admit that
is truly young- he played the violin with the
greatest ease, with an expression really wonder-
ful. He also composed those old-fashioned
dances, so quaint and sweet, called minuets,
besides other simple pieces. At seven, he
made a tour of Europe, giving concerts, play-
ing before kings and queens, and surprising the
whole musical world. Then, when he was
about twelve, he began to write operas, and so
original and delightful were these that he may
be said to have founded a school or manner
of writing musical compositions of a dramatic
nature. After having done the work of two life-
times, he died at the early age of thirty-nine.
These boys who draw on slates and whose
time and thoughts are constantly running to pic-
tures sometimes turn out to be great artists and
leave splendid names behind them. In the
great picture gallery at The Hague, which is at
once the pride and joy of all true Dutchmen,
hangs among other masterpieces, the most fa-
mous -animal-picture in all the world. It is
called "The Bull." It was painted by a very
young man, whose name was Paul Potter, and
who was only twenty-two when he signed this
canvas. There are few paintings better known,
and it is acknowledged by art critics to.be the
most complete work that any cattle painter has
ever done.
Though this Dutchman died at the age of
twenty-nine, he left behind him one hundred and
forty pictures that were all out of the ordinary,
while some of them were painted before he was
sixteen. He made, when he was eighteen, a won-
derful etching that attracted attention in the old
town of Delft, and an artist in those days had to
do excellent work to secure notice at all. Pot-
ter's works are greatly prized and are found
in the principal galleries of the world. You may
see them in the National Gallery in London;
the Berlin, Dresden, and Vienna Museums;
the Hermitage in St. Petersburg, the Louvre in
Paris, and all the art institutions of the artist's
native land.
How we all have struggled with compositions
in our time, and what a bore we voted them!
Sometimes, too, we thought them so unneces-
sary. But the ability to write well has made

many a man famous, as you all know. Away
back in the middle of the last century, a young
English lad, named Thomas Chatterton, was ap-
prenticed to a lawyer of Bristol. He took his
meals in the kitchen of this lawyer's house, and
his life was very miserable. Finally he ran away
from the town, and, like so many others, he
found his way to London; Here he wrote, and
here he died at the age of eighteen. In these
last four years, however, he fairly devoured
books, and he became interested in antiquities.
He could, at sixteen, write in the fashion of the
literary men of the fifteenth century, and he imi-
tated their writing so well as to deceive some of the
most learned people of London. Verses he wrote
well when he was twelve, and, after he came to
the big English capital, he produced with great
rapidity songs, satiric poems, letters, and articles
for the newspapers. He is the author of the
famous Battle of Hastings" that you will read
some day; and he is considered the greatest
" prodigy" in all literature.
Victor Hugo, the great French poet and
novelist, is famous everywhere. He began his
literary career at the age of thirteen. At six-
teen he drew up his first novel, in two weeks!
The Academy at Toulouse crowned two of his
odes .that he wrote at seventeen. At twenty, his
first volume of poems was so good that he re-
ceived a pension of two hundred dollars from the
French government; and you are all aware how
he came to be one of the greatest, as well as one
of the most popular, of the French poets. His
patriotism was as great as his literary gifts. His
life is one of the most interesting in the literary
annals of France. I saw his funeral in Paris, in
May, 1885, when he was followed to the grave
by a concourse of sorrowful people. The pro-
cession was miles in length. Few emperors or
successful generals have had a more imposing
burial, nor was ever man laid to rest who was
more deeply, truly mourned than was this grand
and gifted Frenchman.
Last of all in this list of youthful geniuses
comes one who, I confess, has impressed me
more than all the rest. How many of us have
spent weary, wretched hours over our mathe-
matics -and to those to whom figures do not
come with ease, what a task it is! There was,
however, a young French lad, named Blaise Pas-




cal, whose father had to hide his books so that
the boy might not study mathematics too much!
At the age of twelve, Pascal rediscovered for
himself elementary geometry. At sixteen, he
composed a treatise on Conic Sections, and at
nineteen he invented a calculating machine to
aid his father, who had taken a position in the
Treasury Department of the French govern-

ment. You see, this boy could not be kept
down, so great were his gifts. Though he died
in 1662, before he was forty years old, he lived
long enough to become one of the greatest
philosophers and scholars of his time; to-day his
writings are read all over the world, and he re-
mains one of the most astonishing of the famous
men of all times.



Said the elephant to -the Siraffe
Your. neck is too long by one half"
He replied "Since your nose
Reaches down to your toes
Al others you'd beltep not laugh:


\ ~46-19~







pt^IFP pi_
cA3&,^*n^^_ 5iaj3._



THE rose-leaves fast are going,
A little wind is blowing,
It seems almost like snowing
Under the white rose-tree;
And oh, we all are sighing
For June to be a-flying!
We 're anxious to be trying
Vacation days so free.


They tell us learning's better
Than fun, but 't is a fetter-
I 'm such a sad forgetter -
To have to pore o'er books;
So, June, now do please hurry,
And make the school-days scurry,
Bring on Commencement's flurry,
Then--ho! for fields and brooks!


QUOTH the Lion, My mane is a bore,
For I dwell in a tropical clime;
I have called upon Barbers galore
But they never can get through in time!"

I V_"



THE rose-leaves fast are going,
A little wind is blowing,
It seems almost like snowing
Under the white rose-tree;
And oh, we all are sighing
For June to be a-flying!
We 're anxious to be trying
Vacation days so free.


They tell us learning's better
Than fun, but 't is a fetter-
I 'm such a sad forgetter -
To have to pore o'er books;
So, June, now do please hurry,
And make the school-days scurry,
Bring on Commencement's flurry,
Then--ho! for fields and brooks!


QUOTH the Lion, My mane is a bore,
For I dwell in a tropical clime;
I have called upon Barbers galore
But they never can get through in time!"

I V_"



MANY hundred years ago, in the year 1295,
let us say, before Columbus discovered America,
or the art of printing had been invented, a
strange thing happened in Venice, Italy. Three
men, dressed in outlandish garb, partly European
and partly Asiatic, appeared in the streets of
that city, making their way to the gates of a
lofty and handsome house which was then oc-
cupied by members of the ancient family of
Polo. The three strangers, whose speech had a
foreign accent, claimed admittance to the man-
sion, saying that they were Maffeo and Nicolo
Polo, brothers, and Marco, son of Nicolo, all of
whom had been absent in the wild and barbarous
countries of the Far East for more than twenty-
four years, and had long since been given up
as lost.
In those days, nobody in Europe knew much
about the regions in which the three Polos had
traveled; and what little they did know was
from vague and few reports. Two friars, Plano
Carpini and William Rubruquis, it is true, had
reached the borders of Cathay, or Northern
China, and had brought back accounts of the
wonders of that mysterious land, of.which they
had heard from the subjects of the Great Khan,

who reigned over a vast empire. But nobody
among the learned and most traveled people of
Europe knew exactly what manner of people
lived, or what countries lay, beyond the western
boundary of Cathay. None knew aught of the
inhabitants (or if there were inhabitants) of the
regions that we now know as India, Sumatra,
Japan, Corea, and the eastern coasts of Asia and
Africa. It was supposed that the farthest ex-
treme, or eastern edge, of Cathay ran off into a
region of continual darkness, a bog or marsh
where all manner of strange beasts, hobgoblins,
and monsters roamed and howled. And it was
not surprising that when the three Polos, for
these were they, came back from that desperately
savage country and claimed their own, they
were laughed to scorn. It seemed reasonable
to believe that the three, having been gone so
many years, had wandered off into the Sea of
Darkness and had perished miserably, or had
been destroyed by the wild creatures of that
terrible region.
How the three Polos so far convinced their
relations, who were in possession of the Polo
mansion in Venice, that they were willing to let
in the new-comers, we do not know; but John
Baptist Ramusio, who has written an entertain-
ing history of the Polo family, sets forth what
was done by the three Polos to prove that they
were what they claimed to be, after they had


taken possession of their house. They explained
that they had been in the service of the Great
Khan, or Emperor, of the .Mongol Empire, and
that they had amassed wealth while in the re-
gion variously known as Cathay, China, Mon-
golia, and the Far East. This is what the good
John Baptist Ramusio has to tell of the device
by which Maffeo, Nicolo, and young Marco Polo
finally convinced their neighbors of the truth of
their marvelous story:

They invited a number of their kindred to an enter-
tainment, which they took care to have prepared with
great state and splendor in that house of theirs; and when
thehour arrived for sitting down to table, they came forth
of their chamber, all three clothed in crimson satin,
fashioned in long robes reaching to the ground, such as
people in those days wore within doors. And when
water for the hands had been served, and the guests were
set, they took off those robes and put on others of crim-
son damask, whilst the first suits were by their orders
cut up and divided among the servants. Then after par-
taking of some of the dishes, they went out again and
came back in robes of crimson velvet, and when they had
again taken their seats, the second suits were divided as
before. When dinner was over they did the like with the
robes of velvet, after they had put on dresses of the or-
dinary fashion worn by the rest of the company. These
proceedings caused much wonder and amazement among
the guests. But when the cloth had been drawn, and all
the servants had been ordered to retire from the dining-
hall, Messer Marco, as the youngest of the three, rose
from table, and, going into another chamber, brought
forth the three shabby dresses of coarse stuff which they
had worn when they first arrived. Straightway they
took sharp knives and began to rip up some of the seams
and welts, and to take out of them jewels of the greatest
value in vast quantities, such as rubies, sapphires, car-
buncles, diamonds, and emeralds, which had all been
stitched up in those dresses in so artful a fashion that no-
body could have suspected the fact. For when they took
leave of the Great Khan, they had changed all the wealth
that he had bestowed upon them into this mass of rubies,
emeralds and other jewels, being well aware of the im-
possibility of carrying with them so great an amount of
gold over a journey of such extreme length and difficulty.
Now this exhibition of such a huge treasure of jewels and
precious stones, all tumbled out upon the table, threw the
guests into fresh amazement, insomuch that they seemed
quite bewildered and dumbfounded. And now they
recognized that in spite of all former doubts these were
in truth those honored and worthy gentlemen of the Ca'
Polo that they claimed to be; and so all paid them the
greatest honor and reverence. And when the story got
wind in Venice, straightway the whole city, gentle and
simple, flocked to the house to embrace them, and to
make much of them, with every conceivable demonstra-
tion of affection and respect. On Messer Maffeo, who

was the eldest, they conferred the honors of an office
that was of great dignityin those days; whilst the young
men came daily to visit and converse with the ever polite
and gracious Messer Marco, and to ask him questions
about Cathay and the Great Can, all of which he an-
swered with such kindly courtesy that every man felt
himself in a manner his debtor. And. as it happened
that in the story which he was constantly called on to
repeat, of the magnificence of the Great Can, he would
speak of his revenues as amounting to ten or fifteen
millions of gold; and in like manner, when recounting
other instances of great wealth in those parts, would al-
ways make use of the term millions, so they gave him the
nickname of MESSER MARCO MILLIONI: a thing which
I have noted also in the Public Books of this Republic
where mention is made of him. The Court of his House,
too, at S. Giovanni Chrisostomo, has always from that
time been popularly known as the Court of the Millioni.

It is with the youngest of the three Polos
that our story has to do; for Marco, the son of
Nicolo, was the author of the book that bears
his name; and he was the most famous traveler of
his time, as you shall presently see. Hewas a boy
seventeen years old when he first started on his
adventurous journey into Far Cathay. He was
forty-one years old when he returned to his na-
tive city of Venice, with his father and his uncle
Maffeo; and it was not until three or four years
later, while he was a prisoner of war, that he
began to write, or dictate, the tale of his won-
derful travels.
The two Polo brothers, Nicolo and Maffeo,
began their wanderings in the far East before
Marco was born. After several years of trad-
ing and traveling in that region of the world,
which was called the Levant, because the sun
was seen to rise there (from the French verb le-
ver, to rise), the two Polos were in Constantinople
in 1260. From that city they went on a trad-
ing venture around the northern shore of the
Black Sea to the Crimea and the Sea of Azov
and thence into western Asia and to Bokhara,
where they remained three years. While there
they heard more distinct and trustworthy tales
of the Great Khan, as he was called the Em-
peror of the Mongols -and they resolved to
go and see the splendors of his court.
At that time the Mongolian empire was one
of the largest, if not the largest, in the world.
The Mongols, beginning their wandering life
in the northern part of Asia, had overrun all of
the western part of that continent, and as far


VOL. XXIII.- 81.

* House of Polo.


to the southward as the island of Sumatra, ex-
cepting India. To the eastward the islands of
Cipangu, or Japan, alone resisted the dominion
of the Great Khan, and in the west his hordes
had even broken over the borders of Europe,
and had taken possession of the country now
known as Russia, had invaded Poland and
Hungary, and had established themselves on the
mouths of the Danube. During the reign of
the great Jenghiz Khan and his immediate suc-
cessors, it has been said that "In Asia and Eas-
tern Europe scarcely a dog might bark without
Mongol leave, from the borders of Poland and
the coast of Cilicia to the Amur and the Yel-
low Sea."
When the two Polos arrived at the chief city
of the Mongol empire, Kublai Khan, a grand-
son of the great Jenghiz, was the reigning
sovereign. The Khan had never seen any Eu-
ropeans, and he was greatly pleased with the
appearance of the Polo brothers. This is what
Marco Polo says of the reception of his father
and uncle by Kublai Khan:
When the Two Brothers got to the Great Kaan, he re-
ceived them with great honor and hospitality, and showed
much pleasure at their visit, asking them a great number
of questions. First, he asked about the emperors, how
they maintained their dignity and administered justice
in their dominions; and how they went forth to battle,
and so forth. And then he asked the like questions
about the kings and princes and other potentates.
And then he inquired about the Pope and the Church,
and about all that is done at Rome, and all the customs
of the Latins. And the Two Brothers told him the truth
in all its particulars, with order and good sense, like sen-
sible men as they were; and this they were able to do,
as they knew the Tartar language well.
When that Prince, whose name was CUBLAY KAAN,
Lord of the Tartars all over the earth, and of all the
kingdoms and provinces and territories of that vast quar-
ter of the world, had heard all that the Brothers had to
tell him about the ways of the Latins, he was greatly
pleased, and he took it into his head that he would send
them on an Embassy to the Pope. So he urgently de-
sired them to undertake this mission along with one of
his Barons; and they replied that they would gladly exe-
cute all his commands as those of their Sovereign Lord.
Then the Prince sent to summon to his presence one of
his Barons whose name was COGATAL, and desired him
to get ready, for it was proposed to send him to the Pope
along with the Two Brothers. The Baron replied that
he would execute the Lord's commands to the best of his
After this the Prince caused letters from himself to
the Pope to be indited in the Tartar tongue, and com-

mitted them to the Two Brothers and to that Baron of his
own, and charged them with what he wished them to say
to the Pope. Now the contents of the letter were to this
purport: He begged that the Pope would send as many
as an hundred persons of our Christian faith; intelligent
men, acquainted with the Seven Arts, well qualified to
enter into controversy, and able clearly to prove by force
of argument to idolaters and other kinds of folk, that the
Law of Christ was best, and that all other religions were
false and naught; and if they would prove this, he and
all under him would become Christians and the Church's
liegemen. Finally he charged his Envoys to bring back
to him some Oil of the lamp which burns on the Sepul-
chre of our Lord at Jerusalem.
When the Prince had charged them with all his com-
mission, he caused to be given them a Tablet of Gold,
on which was inscribed that the three Ambassadors
should be supplied with every thing needful in all coun-
tries through which they should pass with horses, with
escorts, and, in short, with whatever they should require.
And when they had made all needful preparations, the
three Ambassadors took their leave of the Emperor and
set out.

So great was the reverence in which the
Great Khan was held by all who frequented his
court that he was called the Lord, or the Lord
of the earth. Ramusio spells the title variously,
sometimes Kaan," and sometimes "Can."
He also calls him Cublay at times, but most
scholars give the name as Kublai. The Seven
Arts which the Great Khan wanted to have
brought to his court by teachers were as fol-
lows: Rhetoric, Logic, Grammar, Arithmetic,
Astronomy, Music, and Geometry. These were
then regarded as the sum of human knowledge;
and if the people of the Great Khan were
taught in these, they would know all that the
Europeans knew.
Everything went well with the travelers ex-
cept that the Tartar baron, who had been sent
with them, fell sick and had to be left behind.
The brothers reached home in 1269, and found
to their great dismay that the Pope had died
and that his successor had not been chosen.
So they waited two years, and still no new pope
was elected to the place of him who had died.
They hankered after the rich field of trade
which they had found in Cathay, and taking
Nicolo's son, the young Marco, with them,
they started again for the realms of Kublai
Khan. At Acre, a noted seaport of Palestine not
far from Jerusalem, they asked the advice of an
eminent churchman, the Archdeacon Tebaldo,





as to how they should satisfy the Great Khan
that they had done their best to fulfil his de-
sires in the matter of bringing back priests to
educate his newly acquired subjects in the Chris-
tian faith.
From the Archdeacon they got letters ex-
plaining the cause of the failure of that part of
their mission; and from him they obtained some
of the oil from the lamp that burns in the
sepulchre of our Lord in Jerusalem. Armed
with these the Polos started on their return, but
they had not gone far when they were over-
joyed to learn that their good friend, Arch-
deacon Tebaldo, had been chosen Pope. The
news was sent after them and they went back
to Acre, where Tebaldo, now known as Pope
Gregory X., received them graciously; but he
could supply them with only two priestly teach-
ers, and these afterwards became so alarmed
by the dangers of the way that they drew back.
It is related that the Great Khan, in conse-
quence of this failure to supply him with Chris-
tian teachers, resorted to Tibet, where he found
holy men who brought for his unruly subjects
instruction in the religion of Buddha.



MARCO and his father and uncle were very
cordially received when they reached the court
of the Great Khan, which was then established
at the imperial summer residence among the
hills to the north of Cambaluc, or Pekin. The
palace was a vast group of buildings and was
known as the City of Peace, or Chandu: its
other names were Kemenfu, Kaiminfu, and Kai-
pingfu. Here is young Marco's own account
of the reception which the three Venetians had
in the City of Peace:

And what shall I tell you? When the Two Brothers
and Mark had arrived at that great city they went to
the Imperial Palace, and there they found the Sovereign
attended by a great company of Barons. So they bent
the knee before him, and paid their respects to him with
all possible reverence, prostrating themselves on the
ground. Then the Lord bade them stand up, and treated
them with great honor, showing great pleasure at their
coming, and asked many questions as to their welfare

and how they had sped. They replied that they had in
verity sped well, seeing they had found the Kaan well
and safe. Then they presented the credentials and let-
ters which they had received from the Pope, which
pleased him right well; and after that they produced the
Oil from the Sepulchre, and at that also he was very
glad, for he set great store thereby. And next, spying
Mark, who was then a young gallant, he asked who was
that in their company ? Sire," said his father, Messer
Nicolo, "'t is my son and your liegeman." Welcome
is he too," quoth the Emperor. There was great re-
joicing at the Court because of their arrival; and they
met with attention and honor from everybody. So they
abode at the Court with the other Barons.
Now it came to pass that Marco, the son of Messer
Nicolo, sped wondrously in learning the customs of the
Tartars, as well as their language, their manner of writing
and their practice of war; in fact he came in brief space
to know several languages and four sundry written char-
acters. And he was discreet and prudent in every way,
insomuch that the Emperor held him in great esteem.
And so when he discerned Mark to have so much sense,
and to conduct himself so well and beseemingly, he sent
him on an ambassage of his, to a country which was a
good six-months journey distant. The young gallant
executed his commission well and with discretion. Now
he had taken note on several occasions that when the
Prince's ambassadors returned from different parts of
the world, they were able to tell him about nothing ex-
cept the business on which they had gone, and that the
Prince in consequence held them for no better than fools
and dolts, and would say: "I had far liever hearken
about the strange things, and the manners of the differ-
ent countries you have seen, than merely be told of the

business you went upon "; for he took great delight in
hearing of the affairs of strange countries. Mark, there-
fore, as he went and returned, took great pains to learn
about all kinds of different matters in the countries which
he visited, in order to be able to tell about them to the
Great Kaan.
When Mark returned from his ambassage he presented
himself before the Emperor, and after making his re-
port of the business with which he was charged, and its
successful accomplishment, he went on to give an ac-
count, in a pleasant and intelligent manner, of all the
novelties and strange things that he had seen and heard;
insomuch that the Emperor and all such as heard his
story were surprised, and said: "If this young man live,
he will assuredly come to be a person of great worth
and ability." And so from that time forward he was
always entitled MESSER MARCO POLO, and thus we shall
style him henceforth in this Book of ours, as is but right.
Thereafter Messer Marco abode in the Kaan's em-
ployment some seventeen years, continually going and
coming, hither and thither, on the missions that were
entrusted to him by the Lord, and sometimes, with the
permission and authority of the Great Kaan, on his own
private affairs. And, as he knew all the sovereign's
ways, like a sensible man he always took much pains to
gather knowledge of any thing that would be likely to


interest him, and then on his return to Court he would
relate everything in regular order, and thus the Emperor
came to hold him in great love and favor. And for this rea-
son also he would employ him the oftener on the most
weighty and most distant of his missions. These Messer
Marco ever carried out with discretion and success, God
be thanked. So the Emperor became ever more partial
to him, and treated him with the greater distinction, and
kept him so close to his person that some of the Barons
waxed very envious threat. And thus it came about
that Messer Marco Polo had knowledge of, or had ac-
tually visited, a greater number of the different countries
of the World than any other man; the more that he was
always giving his mind to get knowledge, and to spy out
and inquire into everything, in order to have matter to
relate to the Lord.

It is pleasant to think of this bright young
stranger in the court of Kublai Khan winning
friends for himself by his zeal in the acquiring
knowledge of the peoples and countries subject
to the sway of the Khan. By his intelligence and
agreeable manners he was able to command the
means to explore countries which, even to this
day, are very imperfectly understood by the rest
of the world. Within the memory of men now
living, European travelers have explored, for the
first time since Marco Polo's visits, the Pamir
steppes, other portions of Mongolia, Tibet, and
some of the southwestern provinces of China.
He was the first traveler to trace a route
across the whole length of Asia, says one of
his biographers, describing kingdom after
kingdom that he had seen with his own eyes."
He was the first traveler to explore the deserts
and the flowering plains of Persia, to reveal
China with its mighty rivers, its swarming
population, and its huge cities and rich man-
ufactures; the first to visit and bring back ac-
counts of Tibet, Laos, Burmah, Siam, Cochin
China, Japan, the Indian Archipelago, Ceylon,
Farther India, and the Andaman Islands; the
first to give any distinct account of the se-
cluded Christian empire of Abyssinia; the first
to speak even vaguely of Zanzibar, Madagascar,
and other regions in the mysterious South, and
of Siberia and the Arctic Ocean in the terri-
ble and much dreaded North. Although cen-
turies have passed since young Marco Polo
grew to man's estate while threading his dan-
gerous way among these distant lands, we must
still look back to his discoveries for much that
we know about those countries; for we have

learned nothing new of many of them since his
Years passed while the three Polos were gath-
ering riches and knowledge in Cathay; the
Great Khan was growing old and infirm, and
the father and the uncle of Marco were now well
stricken in years. It was time that they took
back to Venice their gold, precious stones, and
costly stuffs. But the old emperor growled a
refusal whenever they suggested that they would
like to leave his court. A lucky chance gave
them an opportunity to get away.
The Khan of Persia, Arghun, who was a
great-nephew of Kublai Khan, had lost his fa-
vorite wife, and, fulfilling her dying request, he
now sent to the Mongol court for a lady of her
own kin. The Lady Kukachin, a lovely dam-
sel of seventeen years, was selected to be the
bride of the Persian Khan, and three envoys
of the widowed ruler were told to take her to
him. But the way from Cathay to Persia was
very hazardous, owing to the wars that then
prevailed; and it was thought best for the
party to take ship from one of the ports of China
to Ormus, on the Persian Gulf. The Tatars
are not good sailors, and the Persian envoys,
who could not get much help or comfort from
their friends in the court of Kublai Khan when
they planned their voyage, naturally bethought
them of engaging the services of the three
hardy and adventurous Venetians, who were
voyagers, as well as land travelers.
The Great Khan was most unwilling to part
with his favorite and useful Venetians, but, hav-
ing consented to let them go, he fitted out a
noble fleet of ships, and giving them friendly
messages to many of the kings and potentates
of Europe, including the king of England, he
sped them on their way. They sailed from
Zayton, now called Tsinchau, a seaport of Fuh-
kien, on the southeast coast of China, but were
so detained by storms and the illness of some
of the suite that it was twenty-six months before
they arrived at their destination. Two of the
three envoys died on the way, and when the
three Venetians and the lady who had been
confided to their care reached the court of Per-
sia, they found that the Khan was dead and
another, Kaikhatu, reigned in his stead. In
that country and in those days the wishes of a




lady were not much considered in the matter of
marriage, and the son of the reigning Khan,
Ghazan, married the young lady who had jour-
neyed so far to find a husband. It is recorded
that the young lady wept sadly when she parted
with the kindly and noble Venetians; and so
they took their way homeward and arrived in
Venice, as we have said, in the year 1295 six
hundred years ago.

and war vessels whenever a war was brought
on; and as most of the fighting was done on
the sea, the great crafts propelled by oars and
called galleys were brought into service. In
one of these wars the Polo family took part,
for they were rich and noble; and Marco Polo,
now a man of mature years, was commander of
a great and powerful galley. He had the mis-
fortune to be captured in a battle with the

..- ." '-


At that time Venice and Genoa were rival
republics, not merely Italian cities. Each was
an independent state and held rich possessions
in the Levant, the Crimea, and around the
Mediterranean. They were almost continually
at war with each other and with the republic
of Pisa. It was expected and required of all
rich and noble citizens of these republics that
they should furnish a certain number of fighters

Genoese fleet, off the island of Curzola, on the
Dalmatian coast, in September, 1298.
After that great defeat, Marco Polo was car-
ried a prisoner to Genoa, where he was held
until some time during the following year, prob-
ably in August, when a treaty of peace between
the two warring republics having been signed,
he was restored to his own country. If Marco
Polo had not been captured at the battle of


Curzola, or in some other of the many sea-fights
between the two republics, we-probably never
would have had his famous book to enlighten
us concerning the lands he saw and described.
And this is how it happened: You have al-
ready seen that it was Marco's sensible custom
to tell his adventures to those who came to ask
him about his travels in the heart of Asia; and
when he found himself shut up in the prison
of Genoa, he speedily made the acquaintance
of his fellow prisoner, one Rusticiano, of Pisa,
who was also a captive of war. Luckily for
us, Rusticiano was a writer of some repute, and,
hearing from Marco's lips many tales of mar-
velous adventure, he besought the traveler to
set these down in writing. But noblemen, and
indeed gentlemen of high degree, in those days
did not think well of writing; it was no dis-
grace to be unable to write anything more than
one's name; and the high and mighty of the
land looked down with contempt upon "scriv-
eners and scribes," as writers were called.
The world has gotten bravely over that notion.
Howbeit, Marco agreed to dictate his story
to Rusticiano, having recourse to his own mem-
ory, and perhaps to the note-books which he
must have written when he was in the service
of the Great Khan, and which may have been
sent to him while he was in the Genoese prison.
It is to the book written by Rusticiano, as
the words fell from the lips of Marco Polo, that
we are indebted for the valuable information
and the entertaining knowledge of the East
which is now spread over many books. And
it is because it was dictated, or recited, and not
written by Marco's own hand, that we find that
in it Marco is always spoken of in the third
person; he never says I did this and that,"
but always "Messer Marco Polo"; or he uses
some such modest terms.
As the art of printing had not then been in-
vented, Rusticiano was obliged to write on
parchment the story of Marco Polo; and for
many years afterward copies of that book were
very precious, for every one of them had to be
written out with infinite labor: and some of
them were illustrated with drawings and paint-
ings of the wonders described in the book. The
oldest and most valuable of these manuscript

books in existence is in the Great Paris Library,
and as it was undoubtedly written during the
lifetime of Marco Polo, and may have been re-
vised by him, it is regarded as the most authen-
tic, as it is the oldest, of all the manuscript
copies of Marco Polo's book. It may be the
original book. There are, all told, more than
seventy-five manuscript copies of Marco's book
in various parts of Europe, and written in vari-
ous languages. The original work was written
in French, then one of the commonest lan-
guages of the commercial world. The first
printed edition of the book was in German, and
was produced in Nuremberg in 1477. There
have been several editions printed in English,
the most famous and best of which, "Travels
of Marco Polo," was translated and edited by
Colonel Henry Yule, an English officer and
scholar of renown. It is from his book that we
derive all the information collected for the
readers of these chapters of ST. NICHOLAS.*
The strange knowledge of the world which
the book of Marco Polo contained confirmed,
among other things, the tales brought from the
East by the Friars Piano Carpini and William
Rubruquis in 1246 and 1253, respectively.
People now learned that the eastern part of Asia
did not run off into an impenetrable swamp
covered with clouds of perpetual darkness; for
the three Venetians had sailed from the south-
eastern coast of Cathay, or China, around to
the Persian Gulf. Scholars and travelers were
a long time, however, trying to digest the vast
amount of geographical knowledge brought
back by the Polos. They learned that there
was an ocean east of Asia, as well as an ocean
west of Spain and England; why did n't they
begin to think of crossing westward from Spain
to the Cathay of which such exact accounts
had been brought by Marco Polo ?
As written books were all that readers had,
ahd these works were few and costly, the book
of Messer Marco Polo did not have a wide cir-
culation. As we have seen, people traveled
very slowly in those days, and news and infor-
mation of all kinds also made its way with even
greater slowness. When Christopher Colum-
bus, who lived in the very city where Marco
Polo had been imprisoned and in which he

* By permission of the publisher, John Murray, London.





wrote his book, began to pick up information
about the world, some two hundred years later,
he must have come across some portion of the
tales told by Marco. But there is no certainty
that he ever saw a copy of Polo's book. Co-
lumbus derived from other sources, or at second-
hand from Polo, the facts that confirmed him
in his belief that the sea between Europe and
Cathay-the ocean sea-was very narrow,
and that the world was not so big around as
most people supposed.
But when Columbus finally set forth on his
voyage into the Sea of Darkness," bound for
India and an unknown land, he carried with
him letters written to the Great Khan by the
sovereigns of Spain, Ferdinand and Isabella.
When he lighted upon what we now know as
the islands of the American continent, he sup-
posed that he had touched the dominions of the
Great Khan; and he was continually on the look-
out for the land of Cipangu, spoken of by Marco
Polo, where there were such riches of gold and
gems and fabulously gorgeous commodities.
In his lifetime, and indeed long after, Marco
Polo was regarded as an inventor of idle tales.
Even within fifty years, thoughtless and ignorant
writers have alluded to him as a great liar; but
time has set him right, and recent explorations
and rediscoveries have proved that he told the
truth about things and places that he saw.
If he gave currency to fables and traditions, he
never adopted them as his own; he told his
readers what he had heard, and then left them
to judge whether these things were true or not.
And some of the wonders that he described, and
which seemed unbelievable, are now proved to
be not so wonderful, after all. Now that we
understand what a volcano is, we can well be-
lieve that those who never saw or heard of a
volcano would be slow to believe a traveler
who told of a burning mountain that continually
sent forth fire and smoke from its inside. To
this day, some of the natives of tropical regions
refuse to believe that water becomes a solid
mass in the winter of the North, so that men
and boys can walk on it, and drag heavy
weights over it.
Marco Polo was not a great genius inspired
with a lofty enthusiasm, as Christopher Colum-

bus was; but he told the truth, and he deserves
a very high place among those who have made
notable additions to the knowledge of the world.
Perhaps he suffered some slight from the people
who lived during his own time because they
found it hard to believe that the world was in-
habited by human beings all around it; that
there was no sea of perpetual darkness, as they
had been taught; and that the people of Asia
were really ingenious and skilful traders and
workers, and not savages and cannibals, as
they had supposed. Perhaps, too, the big,
swelling words and bombastic style with which
the worthy Rusticiano set forth Marco's book
caused some people to regard it with contempt
and even suspicion. We cannot better con-
clude this chapter than with Rusticiano's pro-
logue, or preface, to the book of Marco Polo:
GREAT Princes, Emperors, and Kings, Dukes, and
Marquises, Counts, Knights, and Burgesses! and Peo-
ple of all degrees who desire to get knowledge of the
various races of mankind and of the diversities of the
sundry regions of the World, take this Book and cause
it to be read to you. For ye shall find therein all kinds
of wonderful things, and the divers histories of the great
Hermenia, and of Persia, and of the Land of the Tar-
tars, and of India, and of many another country of which
our Book doth speak, particularly and in regular succes-
sion, according to the description of Messer Marco Polo,
a wise and noble citizen of Venice, as he saw them with
his own eyes. Some things indeed there be therein
which he beheld not; but these he heard from men of
credit and veracity. And we shall set down things seen
as seen, and things heard as heard only, so that no jot
of falsehood may mar the truth of our Book, and that
all who shall read it or hear it read may put full faith
in the truth of all its contents.
For let me tell you that since our Lord God didmould
with his hands our first Father Adam, even until this
day, never hath there been Christian, or Pagan, or Tar-
tar, or Indian, or any man of any nation, who in his own
person hath had so much knowledge and experience of
the divers parts of the World and its Wonders as hath
had this Messer Marco! And for that reason he be-
thought himself that it would be a very great pity did he
not cause to be put in writing all the great marvels that
he had seen, or on sure information heard of, so that
other people who had not these advantages might, by
his Book, get such knowledge. And I may tell you that
in acquiring this knowledge he spent in those various
parts of the World good six-and-twenty years. Now,
being thereafter an inmate of the Prison of Genoa, he
caused Messer Rusticiano of Pisa, who was in the said
Prison likewise, to reduce the whole to writing; and
this befell in the year I298 from the birth of Jesus.

(To be continued.)

he -the:. COws


THE bells are clanging in the shady vale;
"Co-boss," she cries, "co-boss."
The cattle crop the lush grass in the trail;
" Co-boss, co-boss."

Now with a jangling rush they crowd
" Co-boss," she cries, co-boss."
And now they linger as she drops her
"Co-boss, co-boss."

They stand and low and loiter in the lane;
" Co, co, co-boss."

And now they start and dash their bells again;
" Co, boss, co."

And now they pass serenely in a line;
" Co-boss, co, co, co-boss."
The clangor falters and the voice benign;
" Co, boss, co."

And some one calls "good-night" beside
the bars;
"Co-boss, co-boss."
The dewy dusk is pierced with early stars;
" Good-night."
"Co, boss, co."

Come !Ist!g_





ALL of you, healthy boys and girls, every day
of your lives, are constantly using some part of
your bodies,- running, jumping, eating; seeing
all the beautiful things in the world around you,
hearing the birds sing and your playfellows talk;
shouting with joy sometimes, and sometimes
crying with pain. I wonder if you ever stop to
think of what these bodies of yours are made,
and how it is that they can do so many wonder-
ful things with so little trouble on your part?
Perhaps you fancy that it is only grown-up
people that can understand about such things -
that you need not trouble your heads about
them. But I think you are quite able to under-
stand some of the wonders that are going on
every day and every hour inside of you, and I
am sure you will find, if you listen to what I
have to tell you, that the little palace you live
in, your body, is quite as interesting as any
fairy palace that you have read of in your story-
You all know what your bodies are like out-
side. If you were asked what are the different
divisions of your body which you can see at
once, I think you would say your head, your
two arms and your two legs, and the thick mid-
dle part on to which all these are joined. Your
arms and legs are often called your limbs, and
the middle part your trunk; so we may say that
your body is made up of a head, trunk, and four
Now there is one great difference between your
head and trunk, and your limbs. Your head
and trunk are both like boxes filled with curious
kinds of machines, which must work properly if
you are to remain alive and well. But your arms
and legs are not boxes; there is not any space in-
side them. They are added on to the trunk,
VOL. XXIII.-82. 6

and used for defending it and the head, and for
moving them from place to place.
Feel your arm and try to think what is inside
it, before you read any further; then when you
read on, you can see if you are right. You can
all tell me what its outside covering is -what it
is that you touch when you pass your hand over
your arm. You know that it is your skin which
is the smooth outside covering. It feels smooth
to you, I am sure; but if you have a magnifying
glass in the house, just hold it near your finger
and look through it, and you will see that your
skin is not really very smooth. On your hands
and fingers it looks raised up into many ridges,
and is folded and wrinkled wherever it has to
bend. On your arm the skin is smoother, yet
finely wrinkled, and pitted with numbers of tiny
holes. In some places it seems to be peeling
off, and hairs, which you can hardly see without
the glass, stand up all over it.
What you see as the covering of your arms
and of the rest of your body is only the outer
skin; underneath it is another, much darker in
color quite red, in fact, like blood. There is
one great difference between your outer skin and
this lower one. If you prick the top skin with
a needle, taking care not to pierce below it into
the lower, you will feel no pain. The little girls
among you have probably often run their needle
through this upper skin while sewing, and you
boys have no doubt sometimes had blisters on
your hands from doing some hard work, digging
in the garden, or rowing in a boat, or on your feet
from the rubbing of a badly-fitting boot. Have
you tried to prick them to let out the water that
is in them ? These blisters are made by the up-
per skin rising up from the lower, and the space
left between them gets filled with what looks
like water. It does not hurt you to put a needle
through the upper skin; but if you prick deeper,
and go through the lower skin, you feel pain, and
blood comes out of the hole that is made.


.This shows you that there must be something in
the lower skin which is not in the upper: some-
thing that feels pain, and some blood. If you
could only see well enough through that little
hole, you would find running through the lower
skin a kind of network of very fine white
threads, and another network of tiny pipes with
blood inside them. The tip of the needle
touched one of these little white threads, which
are called nerves, and so you felt pain; it broke
some of the little pipes which hold blood, and so
a drop of blood came out of it.
When you get a bad cut, the knife passes
through both the skins, and then what does it
enter? Something firm and red which lies be-
neath the lower skin. This is yourflesh or muscle,
and through it in every part runs a network of
fine white nerve-threads, and another network
of tiny blood-pipes, very like those in the lower
skin. So you feel pain, and blood rushes out;
more pain and more blood than before, because,
by going deeper, you have touched more nerves
and pricked more blood-vessels.
The flesh, or muscle, as we must call it, lies in
great pads and often in what seem like bands
and ropes, everywhere under your skin, between
it and the hard bones. Sometimes there is a
great thick pad made up of many muscle-bands
(as in the upper part of your leg), and some-
times only so thin a pad that you can quite well
feel the hard bone beneath (as in your chin).
So now we have gone through two skins, a
pad of fat, which in some of you is much thicker
than in others, and a pad of red muscle, and at
last we come to the hard bone which lies be-
neath them all and forms the stiff middle part
of your arm or leg.
Just think for a moment of what use your
bones are to you. What would your body be
like without them ? It would be nothing more
than a soft bag, which could have no special
shape and could not stand upright. If you
want to make a straw man--as a scarecrow,
perhaps -you would have to run a stick right
through him to make him stand. As a straw
man does not need to sit down or bend, one
straight stick through him is enough; but you
have not only to stand, but to sit and to walk,
and so you have a kind of prop down your back,
your backbone, and other bones down your legs

and arms, which can move separately. When
you think how very many parts of your body
you want to move, you will see why you need to
have a great many different bones. Have you
ever tried to count, through your skin, how
many bones you have? You could not count
them all, however much you tried, because they
are joined together in many places where you
cannot feel the joint as you can feel it at your
elbow or knee. But if you try to count all the
different hard pieces that you can feel in different
parts of your body, you will find, I am sure, far
more than you expect. My little girl of seven
has been able to count more than one hundred!
If some of you will try to count your bones in
this way, and write down the number, I will tell
you in my next talk how many you really have,
and how many I think you ought to be able to
Your bones would not be of much use to you
if they all lay loose in the flesh, and so they are
very well joined together. Do you know how?
Have you ever looked at the bones of a chick-
en's leg after you have taken off all the meat ?
Next time you have a chicken at dinner, ask to
be allowed to keep the two bones of its leg, the
drumstick and the thigh bone, and when they
are quite dry you can scrape off any little bits
of meat or gristle still on them, and see the
shape of their ends, which made a joint before
you separated them. When they are quite
clean, see how neatly they fit into each other at
the joint. One bone has a rounded end, and
the other a scooped-out end, and the round
part fits into the hollow. The one moves easily
upon the other because there is always a little
oily fluid at the joint. In the living chicken,

tough, tapelike bands, called ligaments, tie the
ends of the bones together, in such a way as to
allow them to move, but not to come apart.
Your own bones all fit into each other at the
joints something in the same way. Look at
the two figures I have drawn of the elbow-joint.
Fig. i shows you what your elbow would look
like if the skin and flesh were all scraped off, and
nothing but the bare bones left. At the part
marked a you see the rounded end of the upper
bone of your arm, and at b and c the scooped-
out ends of the two bones which stiffen the
lower part of your arm, and you see how easily




the round end can move in the hollow made by
the two scooped-out ends, especially as there is
a little oily fluid between the bones. But in Fig.
I there is nothing to hold the bones together.
Now look at Fig. II and
S you will see, twisted round
Fig. the elbow-joint in vari-
ous directions and partly
covering it, the bands
or ligaments which
A fasten the upper
|B and lower

bones together. Now if you imagine the bones
and ligaments you see in Fig. II covered with
red muscle, then with a layer of whitish fat,
and then with your two skins, you will have an
elbow made just like your own.
We have now talked of your skin, fat, muscle,
and bones, and the fine blood-vessels running all
through the lower skin and the flesh, and even
entering the bone; we have also mentioned the
fine white nerve threads, which help you-.to
feel, and also, as we shall see later, to move.
All these-skin, fat, muscle, blood-vessels, and
nerves are to be found not only in your arms
and legs, but all through your body.

We have already described your trunk and
head as boxes. But what is inside these boxes ?
Something that is not to be found in your arms
S and legs:- a whole set of wonderful machines
which you are constantly using, and some of

which go on working even when you are fast
Your trunk is divided into two parts -into
an upper and a lower box, as it were. In the
lower box of your trunk, which is made of skin
and muscle, so that it can change its shape, you
have a very large machine with many different
parts for receiving the food you eat, and chang-
ing it. The name of this machine I think I
need not tell you, for all little boys and girls
have at some time or other had pain after eating
something that was not good for them, and
were told that it was stomach-ache. Then,
in the upper box, which is like a basket with
your bony ribs for its
Fi 2. sides, you have a ma-
chine for breathing, called
your lungs, and another
for pumping the blood
through yourbody, called
your heart. Lastly, in

the very solid, bony box, the sides of which
you feel as you pass your hand round the upper
part of your head, is the most wonderful and
precious machine of all, which helps all the
other machines in your body to do their work.
This is your brain.
There are many other curious machines and
arrangements in your bodies, and when older,
I hope you will learn about them; but these
are all we need mention now, so that you may
follow what I want to tell in our other talks.


DOWN the garden path walked Nancy,
Under summer skies,
Seeing everything around her
With her eager eyes.

Soon she spied a caterpillar-
Great surprise is hers:
"See, Mama, this funny fellow
Still has on his furs "
A. L. Bunner.





[Begum in the January number.]

As they walked toward the village together,
Sindbad said, glancing at his watch :
That's the shortest of all my voyages. Dear
me I don't like to rush things in that way."
How long was your longest journey ? asked
"A trifle over two hundred years," replied
the explorer.
"Two hundred years! cried Tom, almost
Yes, but most of the time I was incarcerated
in a jail on the coast of Spain, under sentence
of imprisonment for life for some crime against
the State; I forget exactly what, now, but I
think it was for stepping on the tail of the royal
cat on the occasion of one of my visits to the
king's palace. That term of imprisonment was
an odd experience," and Sindbad smiled at the
recollection. You see, having partaken of the
Fountain of Youth, I really could n't die, even
to oblige the prison authorities, who grumbled
a good deal about the cost of my keep I al-
ways was a hearty eater. I outlived jailer after
jailer, and thrived and grew fat under the prison
discipline. For several generations I did n't
really mind it much, for after my exciting career
I needed complete rest; but at the end of my
second century in prison I decided that a change
would do me no harm. So I brought suit against
the government for illegal imprisonment. My
lawyers instructed by me took the ground
that I had been sentenced for life, not for ever;
that as the longest ordinary human life is but
one hundred years in duration, I had served just
five-score years too many. I won the case, was
released, and recovered very heavy damages.
Of course I went back to Bagdad with my
money, resolving to indulge in no more voyages;

but I did, just the same it was n't long before
I was off for Balsora, as usual."
"But," said Tom, who had listened to this
recital with deep interest, you really were sen-
tenced to imprisonment for life- not for the
average life, but foryour life."
"The lawyers on the other side raised that
point," replied Sindbad, and they had a dis-
cussion upon it which lasted four days. I regret
that I can't repeat their arguments to you, but
I was asleep most of the time; that sort of thing
bores me excessively."
They were now near the village, and were
standing on a cool, shady road.
Do you see that woman in the kitchen door-
way of yonder house ? said Sindbad, chang-
ing the subject with an abruptness that startled
Tom. She has a good-natured look, and I
believe she '11 give us something to eat."
I don't like to ask her," said Tom, coloring;
"she '11 think we 're tramps."
And he glanced at the enchanted trowsers,
which really seemed to have deteriorated since
the previous day.
"She won't think so when she sees one of
these," laughed Sindbad, drawing a gold eagle
from his pocket, and tossing it high in the air-
so high, in fact, that, to Tom's surprise, it did
not come down at all. "Come on, Thomas,
my lad."
Tom followed his partner to the kitchen-gate
and along the narrow board path that led to
the door, and finally paused with him before
the presiding genius of the establishment, a
young woman of rather prepossessing appear-
ance, whose spread elbows nearly filled the door-
way. She had been watching them with an
expression of countenance in which suspicion
and determination were about equally mingled;
now she said:
Wa-al, what d' yeou want? "
"Food, my dear young lady," replied Sind-


bad, with a smile. Circumstances over which "Of course they will; but take the money."
my partner and I have had no control have "I dunno," hesitated the girl; I don't believe -
made it necessary for us to fast many hours, there 's ten dollars wuth o' vittles in the house,
We are very, very hungry." an' I ain't got change."
Dew yeou see that barn over there?" asked "We do not wish any change; keep it for
the damsel, pointing to a large red edifice about yourself," replied Sindbad.
twenty rods from the house. I don't believe I dare take yeou intew the
I see the barn much more clearly than I do dinin'-room, neither," added the maid, peering
the connection between your query and my pre- apprehensively down the road, I 'm expecting'
vious statement," answered Sindbad. the folks on a morning' train, an' they may be
"Wa-al, there 's a dog in that barn bigger 'n back enny minnit."
yeou tew put together. "The kitchen will do well enough for us,"
He bit a tramp once, said Sindbad, rather impatiently. Here,
an' he kin dew it ag'in. take the coin, and let us know at once
Ef I call him he '11 what you have to eat."
come, an' yeou '11 find As she deposited the eagle in the pocket
he 's 'baout ez hungry of her apron the damsel said:
ezyeoube. I'm.alone "Wa-al, I kin git you some cold roast
in the house, but I lamb, an' some pickles, an' cold
ain't unperteckted by a flapjacks, an' tew kinds
long shot, an' I cal'late o' pie, an' bread an'
it 'll be jest about butter."
ez well fer yeou tew --
tramps tew move on."
"You are mistaken, t
Miss," said Sindbad, sr
flushing slightly. "We
are -neither tramps nor
beggars. We are will-
ing to pay for any re- "-,
freshmen you may see I .
fit to give us, and for I
your trouble as well; "
in proof of which allow
me to offer you this."
And he took from
the pocket of the en-
chanted trowsers a '
shining gold eagle,
which he tendered to
the youngwoman. The "" ,/
expression upon her 'V .
exclaimed in surprise:
Wa-al, I never saw the like of that! That '11 do first-rate," cried Tom, his mouth
"I can readily believe it, Miss," smiled Sind- watering. I '11 take the flapjacks and some
bad. pie."
"An' yeou ain't tramps, arter all ?" Wa-al, come right in an' set downn" smiled
We are not." the domestic, leading the way into the kitchen.
"Wa-al, mistakes will happen." I '11 clear off the table and spread a cloth, an'


then I wish you'd eat ez fast ez you kin, fer she
would n't like to see you here."
Tom was well enough acquainted with New
England and New Englandisms to know that
" she meant the girl's employer, but Sindbad
Who 's she' ? "
Why, the woman I live with," replied the
maid shrilly.
"Oh, your mistress."
"Mistress! screamed the girl. "Yeou ain't
in Russia or over in Africa, an' I ain't nobody's
slave!" Then she added more mildly, "Will
yeou hev a piece o' sage-cheese with your pie ? I
kin git yeou a glass o' cider, tew, ef yeou want it."
The diplomatic Sindbad applied the healing
balm of flattery to the wounded feelings of the
cook; and by his judicious management he
and Tom were willingly served with a very
substantial and satisfactory meal.
We are greatly indebted to you," said the
explorer, as they rose from the table.
Wa-al, I dunno but the shoe 's on the other
foot," was the reply. I cal'late yeou 'd git a
better meal down tew the hotel fer a good deal
less 'n quarter o' the money. I 'spose I ought
tew run over tew Mis' Wilkins's an' see ef she
can't change this ten-dol Why, sakes alive!
it's gone!"
What is gone ? inquired Sindbad with a
hypocritical look of concern.
"The--the money yeou give me--the big
goldpiece. I never had one afore in my life,
an' naow it 's gone "
The girl's face was flushed, and her blue eyes
were suffused with tears.
You can take your time about finding it,"
said Sindbad, but, as you may not, permit
me -" and he forced another of his vanishing
coins into her hand.
"I don't s'pose I ought tew take it," almost
sobbed the maid, "but I will ef yeou leave me
your address so I kin send it back ef I find the
other after you are gone."
Oh, you need n't take that trouble," replied
Sindbad lightly; ten dollars more or less makes
very little difference to me. I may be in this
neighborhood again before long: if I am, and
I should remember it, I '11 call, and you can
return the eagle if you find it."

All right, sir; thank you, sir."
When Sindbad and Tom were on the road
again the latter said:
"It was too bad to take in the girl in that
way, Mr. Sindbad."
"Eh? I don't think I quite catch your
meaning," said Sindbad, with raised eyebrows.
Why, she gave us a good square meal, and
she ought to have been paid for it."
"Well, was n't she paid for it ? cried Sind-
bad wildly. It seems to me that twenty dol-
lars for a plain luncheon like that was -well,
it was an exorbitant price, that 's what it was."
"You know well enough what I mean," said
Tom, rather hotly. The money melted away
soon after she put it in her pocket."
Well, is that my fault ? asked the explorer.
" Certainly not. You know that as well as I.
But I must not allow myself to become excited
after eating. To satisfy your scruples, my boy,
and give you an idea of my own ridiculously
honorable nature, I will inform you that I have
kept a list of the persons to whom I have given
those gold eagles, and I mean to pay every one
of them, or their heirs, executors, or administra-
tors over again just as soon as I am able. Talk
about your scruples! why, they 're not a cir-
cumstance to mine."
"I did n't know-" began Tom, apologetically.
"Well," interrupted Sindbad, in his severest
manner, never again attempt to discuss a sub-
ject with which you are not thoroughly con-
versant. Follow that bit of advice, my lad, and
very likely you '11 save yourself a deal of trouble."
Tom made no reply. For some minutes
they walked on in silence.
"In Bagdad," said Sindbad presently, "it
used to be, as you are aware, my habit, after a
hearty meal, to tell the story of one of my voy-
ages. Ah, those days are long since past!"
Whether or not the explorer intended this for
a hint, Tom did not know, but he said eagerly:
I wish you felt like telling me about one of
them now, sir."
Sindbad smiled benignantly.
"Oh, I '11 do so if you insist!" he said,
"though it's really a great bore to me to go
over all that ground again. Is there any par-
ticular style of voyage that you 'd like to hear
about ? Because I 've had all sorts, and could




probably fill the bill, no matter how exacting
were your demands."
I wish you 'd tell me about the time you
learned to change the color of your eyes," said
Why, of course I will," replied Sindbad.
"That was my twentieth voyage; and a very
interesting one it was, if I do say it. Let's sit
down on this big stone; it's nice and shady,
and we can lean against the fence." -



WHEN they were comfortably seated, Sindbad
began the story of his twentieth voyage in these
Upon my return to Bagdad after my nine-
teenth voyage I resolved never to venture upon
the sea again; nor did I do so for nearlytwo years.
But at last my longing to do something else
than retail the stories of my previous voyages to
my friends proved too much for me, and I set-
tled my affairs, provided myself with a large
and varied stock of merchandise, and journeyed
to Balsora, where I took passage under an as-
sumed name."
"Why did you do that ?" interrupted Tom.
Don't you understand ? I was looked upon
by this time as what we nowadays call a hoo-
doo,' and was obliged to disguise myself to
be received on any ship. Why, there was n't a
seaman in any part of the country who would
sail on the same ship with me if he knew it;
and really, after all, you can hardly blame the
poor fellows, for the vessel was absolutely cer-
tain to be wrecked, or captured by pirates, or
something of the sort.
"The first four days of the voyage were mo-
notonous in the extreme. Everything went so
smoothly that I became positively alarmed.
Was it possible, I asked myself, that I had de-
generated into a mere ordinary merchant ? that
the elements no longer thought it worth their
while to take any notice of me? I became
greatly depressed, and consequently I spent
almost all of the fourth day seated on the deck
bewailing my hard fate.

What is the meaning of this ?' I cried, los-
ing control of myself, and throwing my new
turban on the deck-and stamping on it. Have
I sunk so low that the vessel upon which I am
a passenger can get through unharmed? Ah,
I am indeed the most unfortunate of mortals !'
My agitation attracted the notice of the
captain, who approached me, saying:
What is the matter, O Selim ? are you not
feeling well ?' Selim, I should tell you, was
the name I had assumed.
Before I could reply, the light of the sun
was suddenly obscured. Both the captain and
myself looked up to see the cause, and perceived
an immense giant approaching us; he was wad-
ing in the sea, and it was his head that had
come between us and the sun. You cai form
some idea of his size when I tell you that al-
though the water at that point was about one
thousand fathoms deep it scarcely reached the
tops of his boots."
"Do you really mean to say, Mr. Sindbad,"
cried Tom, aghast, that his lower leg was six
thousand feet long ? "
"Well," replied Sindbad, coloring and speak-
ing in a slightly raised voice, "all this hap-
pened a good while ago, and I can't be exact as
to details. Anyhow, I 'm sure the water did n't
come much above his waist."
"Oh, that's different," said Tom, in a tone
which Sindbad evidently did not like, for he
said very irritably:
Maybe I had n't better go any further with
this voyage; your constant interruptions mix
me all up."
"I won't speak again, sir, unless I forget,"
said Tom.
"Very well; with that understanding I '11
proceed. As soon as the captain saw the giant
he began to tear his clothes and beat his head
with his clenched fist; at the same time utter-
ing despairing cries, in which he was joined by
the sailors.
"I was the only person on board who was
not half mad with fear; I was in my element.
Unable to restrain myself, I exclaimed aloud:
"' By the beard of the prophet, Sindbad's
reputation will not suffer from this voyage after
all! '
The captain turned upon me in a fury.


-- --- -- s--------- ---~--


"'Are you Sindbad?' he demanded.
"I began to stammer out something about
its all being a mistake, but he would not listen
to me.
"'I know you now,' he cried. 'Alas! why
did I allow
.- myself to be
.. ... so deceived?
S But it may
:not be too
late to save
:, /" -. theship yet.'

.,', ', -'- \,' He then sum-
.-. '/ moned half-a-
l} / dozen sailors, or-
dering them to throw
me overboard.
"The giant was now within a few furlongs
of the ship; he was uttering cities of rage, com-
pared with which the loudest thunder you ever
heard would be but as a mother's lullaby.
"The sailors hurried me to the side of the
ship and tossed me into the sea. I made but
little resistance, preferring to trust myself to the
mercy of the waves to remaining on board the
vessel, which the giant was evidently bent upon
"I had swum but a few rods from the ship
when the monster reached it. He bent over
and picked it up in one of his immense hands.
With the other he brushed the captain and crew
from the deck, and they fell into the sea, utter-
ing the most heartrending cries.

"Paying no attention to their supplications
for mercy, the giant inserted the end of one of
his fingers in the open hatchway and tore up
the deck, revealing the entire cargo. It hap-
pened that we had a quantity of fruit and
several bales of confections on board; these the
giant devoured with evident relish. Then he
broke the ship into half a dozen pieces as easily
as you or I would snap a dry twig, and scat-
tered.the fragments in all directions. Those of
the sailors who had not sunk beneath the waves
seized pieces of the wreck and clung to them.
The captain himself
gained possession of a
section of the main-
S' mast, crying as he
seized it:
Woe is me '
"'Well, you look it,'
S said -the giant, heart-
"'Oh, that I ever
permitted that wretch,
'Sindbad, to embark in
my ship!' went on the
captain, the tears pour-
ing down his face.
VOYAGE. pardon, but what did
you say just then ?' asked the giant, his face
lighting up and assuming an expression of eager
"The captain repeated the remark.
You don't mean to say,' cried the giant,
that you actually had Sindbad on board ?'
We had,' replied the captain,' and it is to
him that I attribute all my misfortunes.'
"'Well,' said the giant, 'it 's very kind in
you not to blame me, for I did imagine I had a
hand in the matter. I guess you 're about right,
however. But I have business with this man
Sindbad; where is he ?'
S"Now," asked Sindbad, turning abruptly to
Tom, where do you suppose your Uncle
Sindbad was during this dialogue ?"
I don't know; hanging on to a piece of the
wreck, I suppose," replied the youth.
He was doing nothing of the sort; he was
in one of the pockets of the giant's coat. Yes,
my boy, while the monster was breaking the ship





in pieces I had climbed up his right leg and en-
tered his pocket; I had arrived at the conclu-
sion that I was safer there than on the ocean
clinging to a bit of the wreck, particularly as I
saw that a storm was brewing.
But when I heard the giant say in that hard,
cold, metallic voice that he had business with
me, I regretted what I had done, for I saw that
his feelings toward me were not of a friendly
nature. My head was sticking out of his pocket
at the time, and I hastily pulled it in; but I was
too late.
"' My dear sir,' said the captain,' I am really
surprised at your lack of perspicacity.'
"' What's that ? 'asked the giant.
I mean that you don't seem to keep your
eyes open. If you '11 spare my
life and take me home with you,
I '11 tell you where Sindbad is.' ,
"'Agreed!' said the giant. ..
'Where is he?'
"' You '11 find him in the right- .
hand pocket of your coat,' re-
plied the treacherous captain.
The giant thrust his hand
into his pocket. I tried to
clamber out and leap into the
sea before he could get hold of
me, but was unable to do so.
Seizing me between his thumb
and forefinger, he drew me
out, saying: "'So we meet
at last, do we, my fine fel-
low? I've been looking
for you a good many
S "'I feel honored, I'm
sure,' I said as politely
as I could. Have we
met before? Your face
seems familiar.'
"'No, we have n't ----
met before,' replied the
giant fiercely, and our $a
acquaintance is likely to
be very short unless you THE GIANT BENT OVER
keep a civil tongue in
your head. Don't you be sarcastic with me.'
"' Nothing could be farther-' I began, but
the giant interrupted me. 'Have you for-
VOL. XXIII.- 83.


gotten the incidents of your third voyage ?'
he asked.
I think I must have turned pale when he
made this inquiry; I remembered that third
voyage only too well. But by a strong effort I
concealed my emotion as well as I could and
replied with forced animation:
"' Third voyage? dear me, yes! Why, it
was on that voyage that I met that really de-
lightful person, the black giant with one eye in
the middle of his forehead. Charming fellow
he was perhaps you know him ? It's queer

.91 A$ 'JI/414.ft) pkhJ

Tom, "you remem-
ber all about that third
Voyage of mine?--
S- how my companions
and I put out the giant's
one eye with red-hot spits? "
ND PICKED UP THE Oh, yes," replied Tom.
Go on, please."
Well, my words did not have the desired
effect upon the giant. With a very extensive
and disagreeable sneer he said: "' I know


him -or I did know him; he was my grand-
"'Indeed?' said I. 'How interesting!
There 's not a great family resemblance, though.
He had only one eye, while you have two; but
you're rather swarthy. I think you look like him
about the mouth, though. So he 's dead, is he ?'
He 's been dead a good many years,' re-
plied the giant.
'Dear me! how time does fly; I suppose
you 've often heard him speak of me ?'
"'Yes,' said the giant, giving me an extra
squeeze between his thumb and finger,' I have.'
"' Of course,' I responded with what I meant
for a light laugh. Oh, we were great chums.'
"' So I understand,' returned the giant, giving
me a very unpleasant look; but don't you think
you presumed a little on his good nature when
you put out his eye ?'
"'When I what? I cried, trying to look
amazed and horrified. 'Oh, this is really too
good!-I mean, too bad. Why, my wicked
companions did that; surely your respected

grandfather never for a moment suspected me
of having taken any part in that outrage ? "
"' He knew perfectly well that you were the
ringleader in the business,' said the giant. You
were the only one to escape, but my grandfather
made me promise that I would find you and re-
venge him. I 've found you, and -well, just wait
till we get back to my country- that 's all.'
"' Say,' interrupted the captain at this point,
' how long have I got to hold onto this mast ?
If you 're a giant of your word, you '11 take me
home with you and reward me for the valuable
information I have given you.'
"' Oh, I'll take you home,' said the giant;
' and as for your reward, don't you worry about
So saying, he picked the captain up with his
thumb and forefinger; holding me, meanwhile,
between his third and fourth fingers. Then he
dropped us both into his pocket.
This done, he began to wade in the direction
from which he had come, each of his strides
covering many ship's lengths."

(To be continued.)



"Do you see that child who is coming this way?"
Said the Rose to the Pink;
"What can it be that makes her so gay -
What do you think? "

'T is the frock that she wears, as I believe,"
Said the Pink to the Rose;
"A pretty frock, as you can perceive,
Wherever it grows."

I think she is proud that her eyes are blue,"
Said the Rose to the Pink;
"For a prettier frock she can see on you,
Or me, as I think."

"Perhaps she is glad because we are here,"
Said the Pink to the Rose;
Let us smile our brightest on her, my dear,
Before she goes."


'.": :" i 'I
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^if ,1' ,;



Sj ll1
I '


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.L 1t ie X ss C'rewe
OH s lost her shoe,
., d cnAt tell where to incd it.

g^ b;ehnd il.

Srish your mede1, Iten sofly steal,
.4. -b

see :my neiady hy her new wheel.
Uhe' bups, on both enows,
scvetn on her nose;
" / ,]oggy

I ul she does cre
S- She's [bumps on bothl elOWS,

I.tBt she, does O d
4 t'. e If er wheel or4y goes.
-I t..otbyGRhice.

R),/ 0R-EY_ C-4H-hubbitroL.

Z- T was early in
the month of
St April, and Fred
Kent was spend-
Sing a few days
with his uncle in
STaunton. Fred's
9 home was in a
t,, village among the
S.-. Hampshire, and,
being only ten
years old, he had not often traveled. This was
his first visit to the State of Massachusetts, and
he saw many things that were interesting.
One fine, warm day, his.Uncle James drove
up to the door, and said, "I 'm going to drive
into the country on business this morning.
Would you like to go with me, Fred ? "
Fred said he would, and went into the house
for his hat.
"Where are we going? Fred asked as he
scrambled into the buggy.
To Squawbetty," replied his uncle.
Squawbetty! echoed Fred. "That 's a
funny name for a village Where in the world
did they ever get such a name ? "
The name is n't so strange," was the answer,
"when you know how it came to be given.
When the town of Taunton was first settled, the
land in what is now its east part was owned
by an old Indian squaw named Betty, and was

known as Squaw Betty's Land.' Later it was
purchased by the settlers; but it has ever since
borne the name of Squawbetty. Once there
were large iron-works at the village; but they
were burned down years ago. The village is a
quiet place now. At present the only object of
interest is a curious stairway that I am going to
show you."
Is it a stairway in one of the early settlers'
houses ? said Fred. I have read of hidden
stairways in old castles, by which persons used
to escape when the castle was captured. William
Wallace had one leading to an underground pas-
sage that went from his home to an old monas-
tery near by. Did the settlers of Taunton have
such stairways to escape from the Indians ? "
Oh, no," said Uncle James, laughing at the
notion. This stairway is more curious than
those; and it is out of doors, where everybody
can see it."
"I guess I know what the stairway is like,
then," Fred went on, for he was fond of guess-
ing. It can't be any more wonderful than one
I saw once near home, cut out of the solid rock.
We were having a picnic where the river runs in
a deep cut between two high rocks, and the only
way to get down to the riverside was by steps
cut in the cliff. I guess your stairway is some-
thing of that sort."
You will have to guess again, and then you
won't guess right," said Uncle James mysteri-
ously, but with a smile. "The stairway we


.shall see is made of wood, and it was built for
the fish, so that they could make their way up
stream over the dam."
You must be making fun of me," said Fred.

They soon reached the village of Squawbetty,
and after hitching his horse to a convenient
post, Fred's uncle led the way through a large
gate near a bridge into what had formerly
been the foundry yard. Not far
from the gate there was a dam
across the Taunton River, and
only i few fe-t liove th. wl-
a r,, ,:,I" *'rv.-ll L.iilJi'nL extcn.,:-
-* i e.li, v -ririrer I.ri-in h .-t" he d 'lii.
I L, .niri: r-i, L-tiild:ltn;, :. [
i r: A L, huiIl- nd, I rlei

-nr,14.t -.,--
- t 4. _

I" I t.r:,', (-i[ hIll *:.'"iril:,l c nli -riiLr1
A k I, bv:i--_i:l ', 6 1 .J'. ,.' nI L- e, I r:

-[ilc T : lI-r, ir, : L ., i, ili ,_, r ui,-.i-i^
in Nc", H -inpiir, ainr.: tier.: -ir-
a ; r: at niri r il-li in therni. I lai e
il'tr,-n i:au lil il-nrt 1 : ,:ii ju ,t :*b.:
a -ii t I f iil h1 urc ---f thire L'r,:>,,:': i.,n
m\ I'.tlher's I'!in.
"" N,:,," i.,er-,iie,: U n,:!,: Jm-ii--, I
ia n.:t mn..ikinr i n 0o y 'u, ; I ni-tirI
h Iit I -: \. Thi- i: i- ):ur -i:rfni
at I-:,m e .ire tr.ut ':, i ..itli.:-r -rr.:ni
- iirinri-r-, ri[, that ca l up tif : -i l[-
est rapids and falls without help. But

herrings and alewives are not good
swimmers. They are found only in streams
that have no natural falls. Every year great
numbers of them come up from the salt waters
to hatch their eggs in the ponds of Middle-
boro. Many of the people who live near the
river depend on the herring-fishery for their
livelihood. When the dam was built, it was
found that the herring could not go up as
usual, and as that would bring a serious loss
to the people, the mill-owners were compelled
to put in a stairway."
"What is it like ?" asked Fred.
"You can see for yourself in a few minutes."


the quiet nooks they saw hundreds of fine her-
ring swimming about in search of an easy pas-
sage upstream. Fred had never seen so many
fish before, and he wanted to stop and watch
them; but Uncle James told him this sight was
nothing to what he would see further on.
Then they walked out on the stone dam of
the new mill, and Fred was wild with excite-
ment when he saw the smooth water below
densely crowded with herring so close to one
another that there was little room to swim
about. And when some bigger fish, like a shad,
broke through the crowd, he could see that




they were in an almost solid mass of one or two
feet in depth. "How I would like to fish
here!" said Fred. "Yes," said a man who
was standing near, "I would give a thousand
dollars for the privilege of fishing from this
dam; and it would be cheap at that, too."
After a few minutes Uncle James said, Come,
let us go over to the other side of the river."
Returning through the buildings to the op-
posite bank, they found a crowd who were
watching something with great interest. What
that something was, Fred could not at first
"Where are the stairs you told me about,
Uncle? he inquired.
Here they are," said his uncle, going down
to the bank of the river. As Fred followed, he
saw a long wooden box, or trough, extending
from the top of the dam to the level of the river
below, with a gradual slope. This trough was
about two feet deep, ten or twelve feet wide,
and perhaps seventy-five or a hundred feet in
length. Across the trough were placed stout
planks, six or seven feet long, the first fastened
to the right side, the second to the left, and so
on, with short cross-pieces at the free ends.
Thus the water, as it came from the dam, in-
stead of flowing down the trough in a straight
course, was forced to wind about the ends of
the cross planks from one side to the other,
breaking the swiftness of the current, and leav-
ing quiet pools in all the corners.

But Fred scarcely thought about the trough
at all; for the herring were coming up in such
numbers that the stairway seemed to be almost
one solid mass of fish. Not a few in their
struggles to get upstream actually jumped over
the side of the trough and fell on the ground.
A man who said he had always lived near
by told Fred that he had seen the trough so full
offish that one might walk over on their backs.
Fred was ready to believe anything after the
wonders he had seen; but Uncle James laughed,
saying it would do very well for a fish story.
Fred could easily have caught some of the fish
in his hand; but an officer who was always on
the watch told him that there was a fine of five
dollars for doing so.
"Why is that? asked Fred.
Because if the people were allowed to catch
them, the fish would be frightened and would
not come up the stairway, and soon the herring
would entirely disappear from the river," Uncle
James explained.
When they reached the city, Uncle James
took Fred to a store where they sold silverware,
and showed him a Taunton spoon," with the
Brick and Herring on the handle. He told
Fred how in the early days the people of Taun-
ton made their money chiefly from the herring-
fisheries and the manufacture of brick. Indeed,
at that time, if a vessel from Taunton was sighted
anywhere, other captains knew without asking
that she was loaded with brick and herring!








N the olden time there was a
S happy land ruled over by
a good king and a beauti-
ful queen. One day it was
announced that a prince
and princess -twin chil-
dren were born, and
the people would have
been happier than ever
g if that had been possible;
but, as they could not
be happier, the subjects
1 of the kingdom had to
be joyful in a new way.
So they set all their arti-
ficers to work making
rattles and rings, dolls
and whistles, and what-
ever could keep a baby
from crying or make one laugh.
All those citizens of the capital who had twin
children gave themselves airs over their neigh-
bors and expected to be made dukes and duch-
esses at least.
But when the little prince and princess were
six weeks old, there came an anxious time for
their parents. It was the need of christening
the children that made the trouble. Really,
they should have been christened before; but
the queen had again and again put off the day.
For a while she refused to give any reason for
the delay, but at last she was compelled to con-
fess that she had a dread of the christening
Afraid of the christening dinner ? said the

king in surprise. I am astonished to hear so
trivial an excuse. I supposed you had some
good cause for your hesitation, my dear. Surely
there is nothing about a mere dinner to frighten
a queen."
Alas! answered the queen, sadly, I have
known so many misfortunes to come from
leaving out fairies, wizards, witches, and other
people of that class of society when sending in-
vitations to these christening dinners. Do you
remember what cruel charms offended witches
have wrought upon princes and princesses for
that very reason ? "
Oh, if that is all," replied her husband,
"we can easily provide against any such blun-
der in the case of our two darlings--bless
their golden heads! We will not have any
christening dinner at all -just omit it."
But that would never
do," objected the queen.
\ I should offend not only
Sthe magical folk, but all
the nobility and gentry.
l'P -- No; you must manage
\) somehow toincludeevery
f'' \ one. Can you not issue
( j a proclamation inviting
; a all the people in our do-
minions ? they are not
so very extensive."
THE ROYAL TWINS. I might do that," an-
swered the king thoughtfully. If they should
all come, though, I don't see how we could pro-
vide for so many."
It can be managed," the queen insisted;

I_- :1 '! _..




" and I don't see what else will be so certain to
keep the twins from harm. Our subjects will
gladly help us, for they.are loyal and devoted."
I see no other way," the king remarked;
"so I will speak to the prime minister about it
this very afternoon."
Before many days it was known throughout
the whole kingdom that every man, woman,



and child was invited to the christening dinner
of the young prince and princess; and when
the great day came, tables were brought from
miles around and arranged upon a vast
meadow that surrounded the palace. The ta-
bles were set, the dinner was served, and then
all sat down to enjoy the delicate dishes.
From the highest noble in the land down to
the ragged street-boy, every person was pro-
vided for. No one was even to wait upon the
guests -for where all were guests none could
be waiters.
The dinner was a joyful one. Speeches and
merrymaking came after the feast, and just as
the sun was setting, the king arose to bid his
guests farewell. He made them a little ad-
dress, and ended by saying that he was rejoiced
to see that all were satisfied, and that all could
join with good will in wishing the prince and
princess a long and happy life. This senti-
ment was received with cheers.
"And now," the king added, "if any of the
magical folk present desire to say a few words,
we shall all be glad to listen to them."
Then two or three fairies, who had offered to
be godmothers to the royal children, arose one
after the other, and with pretty speeches con-
ferred upon their little highnesses the gifts of
beauty, truth, and goodness. But so far as they
knew there were no very powerful magical beings

in that kingdom, and the gifts, therefore, were
not of superior quality; and indeed the prince
and princess were so beautiful, noble, and good
already that the gifts made little impression.
I thank you heartily," the king replied to
these kindly fairies. "And now farewell. It is
sunset, and night will soon be here. Good
night, and pleasant dreams to all! "
So saying, he made a sign to the royal nurses;
the nurses took up the pretty babies, the king
and queen rose from their thrones under the
yellow silk canopy and were about to return to
the palace when the sun's red disk dropped be-
hind a distant mountain and at once a harsh
voice was heard crying aloud:
Oho, aha Too late too late !"
At once all turned toward the sound; and all
looked upward, for the sound came from the air
above their heads.
There above the king's table hovered a black
cat. It descended, alighted upon the table, and
at once changed into a little, wrinkled old man
wrapped in a black cloak lined with scarlet.
While all shrank from this strange figure, the
little fellow made wild gestures in the air with
his skinny, claw-like fingers, and meanwhile
croaked to the king.
"Aha, you crafty, selfish fellow he cried,
"so you thought to honor all the beings of your
kingdom except the creatures of the night. You

believed yourself very clever to give your great
dinner by daylight, and to leave out all of us-
the lords of darkness. But you waited too long!
The sun is set, it is night, and I am here!"
So rapidly were these words thrown out that


no one could say a word in reply. The king,
as the little man paused, began to say:
"I assure you "
But the dwarf spitefully interrupted him.
Silence!" he cried out shrilly. It is too
late to make excuses. I have read your pro-
clamation, and you say, 'To all my subjects,
and to all within my dominions who enjoy the
light of day.' Not a word about us. You knew
well we did not enjoy the blinding sunlight."
"Why," said the poor king, while the little
spitfire paused to catch his breath, I never
even heard of you! "
But this speech only made matters worse.
Never heard of' me ? cried the enraged
dwarf. You shall hear of me! Dancing up
and down on the table in his rage, while his
eyes glowed like hot coals, he began to sing:
"Hither, dwarfs and elves and sprites !
All that best love darkest nights,
Cloud the sky, extinguish lights!
Let none see save owls and cats,
Muffled moths and flitting bats.
While I seize a dainty prize
Hoodwink close all human eyes! "
While he sang, the sky suddenly became over-
cast with thick clouds, all the lights went out,
and darkness covered everything. When it was
black dark, a cry was heard and a rush of wings.
As the song ended, the clouds cleared away,
and here and there a torch was relighted.
Then it was seen that the nurse who had car-
ried the princess no longer had the child in her
arms. The. little old man in the black cloak
had disappeared also.
Search was made everywhere; but, toward
midnight, the king, being convinced that the
princess was gone, gave orders to return to the
palace. The sorrowing people dispersed, and
for twice nine days nothing was talked of except
the disappearance of the little princess.
At the palace the grief was greatest. The
poor queen could not have borne her trouble
except that she feared the prince, too, might be
taken from her; and indeed there seemed
reason for the fear, for often at night there
came a flight of bats around the castle windows.
The queen believed these creatures to be sent
by the wicked dwarf who had stolen away the
twin sister; and she had a .silver network put

over the prince's nursery windows, and faithful
servants were ever on guard.
But although nothing was heard of the miss-
ing princess, the prince was left in peace. For
ten years he grew wise and strong and noble,
and then was all
that a young
prince should be.
He had but one
sorrow. He saw
that his mother
was sad, and had
learned the cause
from the king.
Thereafter the
young prince
thought day and
night of restor- "HE THOUGHT DAY AND NIGHT."
ing his sister to her mother and father.
Upon the night of his eleventh birthday, he
dreamed that his sister came and stood by his
bedside, and spoke to him, saying:

Cease to grieve, my brother twin;
With the day the search begin.
First, the Green Magician seek-
Learn the words all creatures speak.

Then she seemed to melt into darkness,
and the young prince slept dreamlessly.
In the early morning the prince went to his
father, told his dream, and repeated what the
princess'had said. The king at first was inclined
to attach little importance to this vision; but he
told the queen what the prince had said, and
she begged that the prince might at once set
out to find the Green Magician.
It is all very well," the king replied to her
entreaties, "to talk of the Green Magician';
but who knows who or what or where he is?
I am sure I never heard even the name men-
tioned. How are we to find him ?"
That I cannot tell," the queen replied, sadly;
"but I would do anything in the world to find
the princess again. And I am sure that if we
try our very best, we may find some one to help
us. We have for ten years done nothing."
"I have sent everywhere," said the king.
"I have had the wisest men in the kingdom at
work, but they have accomplished nothing."
I have a belief," the queen answered, that




no one can find the princess but her brother.
If we are willing that he should seek her, I be-
lieve she can be found."
Just as the queen spoke, the prince went to-
ward the window, and as she finished, he cried
out suddenly:
"Oh, mother! See!"
The king and queen turned toward him, and
saw that he was pointing to a beautiful green
butterfly that was bumping and fluttering against
the pane.
"I believe," said the young prince, "that
the little creature wishes to get in and, so
saying, he opened the sash, and stood back
from the window.
At once the green butterfly winged its way
into the room, and alighted upon the arm of the
queen's chair, where it immediately took the
form of a small green-clad elf, and bowed most
"I am the Green Magician," the elf an-
"Oh, I am so glad !" cried the queen, clap-
ping her hands; and now will you help us to
rescue the princess ? "
"I came for no other purpose," the elf de-
clared, with a second low bow. "Indeed I
should have come long ago, if it had been pos-
sible; but only one person can rescue the lost
princess, and that is her twin-brother. The
Black Dwarf who still holds her in captivity is
shrewd and powerful and cunning. He guards
her in a magic tower so curiously contrived that
none can enter it save by overcoming great
difficulties. I have long sought some way of
outwitting him, and restoring the princess to
But why have you tried to aid us ?" asked
the king.
"Because," answered the Green Magician,
"I was formerly a poor boy running about the
streets of your capital city. When you invited
all to your christening feast, I went with the
rest. There I was grateful for your kindness,
and touched by your grief. I made up my
mind to bring back your daughter to you. I
studied magic, beginning as an errand boy in
the service of a great Persian enchanter. Now
I am a magician. But enough of my own
story. Let us begin the great work. By long

study I have found out a way that may win
success even against the Black Dwarf and his
helpers. But I must have the aid of a young
boy, and one who is entirely devoted to the
I will go," answered the prince.
"There speaks my brave son!" exclaimed
the king proudly; and the queen put her arm
around the boy, and drew him to her side ca-
What did the princess say to you in your
dream ? asked the Green Magician, turning to
the boy with a smile of approval.
"Learn the words all creatures speak," re-
peated the prince.
So I thought," answered the magician,
nodding his head approvingly. Then, turning
abruptly to the king and queen, the little elf
asked, Will you give me the charge and care
of your boy for four years ? "
"Yes," said the queen, at once. "Yes," re-
peated the king, after a moment.
"Very well," answered the magician. "You
need have no fears about him, but during four
years he must be given into my hands. Will
you go with me ?" he asked the prince.
Willingly," the boy answered bravely, hold-
ing out his hand.
The magician tapped the prince softly on
the shoulder with a green hazel-twig that he
drew from beneath his cloak, and instantly both

The prince found himself flying through the
air beside the green butterfly, and the prince
himself was changed into a blue butterfly. He
was particularly pleased to find that he had two
pretty golden spots upon his wings.
As they flew through the summer air, the
Green Magician suddenly swerved to one side,
and called to the prince to follow him.
Hurry he said to the prince, for I see a
bird coming. He eats butterflies, and would
never know that we were a royal prince and a
So they hid under a bunch of leaves until the
bird was past. Then they resumed their jour-
ney, and soon arrived at the magician's home.
Here we are," said the Green Magician, as
he fluttered down beside a rock at the foot of


an old oak-tree. The prince also alighted be- cloak, and to put his hazel twig carefully into a
side him, and both recovered their true shapes, carved steel casket that lay beside the book on
except that the prince was no larger than the the table. I was guilty of some deception in
elf magician- about as tall as a daisy. respect to that dream of yours. The sending of
With his hazel-twig that dream was my work. It was n't really your
the magician tapped sister who appeared to you, but a messenger of
upon the rock, and in my own. But do not be uneasy," he went on,
its side a little door- seeing that the prince seemed a little alarmed by
way opened. Two this confession of deceit; "I mean you only
swinging-doors lined good. I honestly desire to save your sister from
with tufted green silk that wicked dwarf, and you must now be will-
spread wide apart, ing to follow my directions exactly. To-day
and were held by you must lay aside all your garments, and robe
two respectful toads yourself anew in green from top to toe. Come
S who bowed their mas- with me."
S-ter a welcome. So saying, the elf drew aside a curtain, and
,AS TALL AS A DAISY." Entering, in obedi- ushered the prince into a room paved and tiled
ence to a gesture, the with serpentine. Ceiling, walls, and floor were
prince descended a crystal flight of stairs and all of polished stone; and in the middle of the
found himself in a spacious hall hung with room was a wide basin into which a spring bub-
green silk and lighted by small lamps swinging bled from below, making a dainty bath. Into
from golden chains. Around the walls were di- the cold spring water the prince was plunged,
vans upon which were embroidered pillows, ara- after he had laid aside his own clothing; and
besques of golden thread upon a silken ground then he put on a suit of green silk outlined with
that matched the hangings. In the center of embroidery in gold thread.
the hall was a table whereon lay an old book Then a great drowsiness came over the prince,
bound in snuff-brown leather and closed with and he was conducted to a sleeping apartment,
gold clasps. and, lying upon a cushioned divan, he slept a
The prince, obeying a second gesture, seated dreamless sleep that refreshed him greatly.
himself upon one of the
divans, and looked in-
quiringly at the Green
"I have brought you
here, my boy," said the -
little elf, "in order that
you may learn what is
necessary before setting ,
out to rescue your sis- 1
ter. You remember she
advised you to learn the '
words that all creatures .. -- /
speak. Now, I suppose /
you wondered what she /-
Yes," the prince an-
swered; "I tried to think what she meant, but When the prince awoke, he found himself
could not imagine." alone. He arose and made his way to the hall
"I have a little confession to make," the he had first entered; here he found the elf bend-
magician said, as he turned to lay aside his ing over the great book, and tracing curves and





curious figures upon a sheet of crinkly parch-
ment that was spread out upon the table.
"Ah! you have awakened," cried the elf,
rising to greet the young prince. It was high
time, for the sun has been up an hour, and you
must waste none of your hours with me."
"How long have I been asleep? asked the
It is a new day," answered the Green Ma-
gician; "and you have plenty to learn. When
you have eaten something, I will set you the first
of your tasks."
He clapped his hands, and the two toads en-
tered, carrying golden trays upon which were
dishes. They set down the dishes on a corner
of the table, and the prince made an excellent
breakfast upon cakes, and honey, and sugar-
plums, and macaroons, and pistachio nuts.
When he had finished, the toads removed the
golden dishes, and the Green Magician put on
his cloak. The prince then followed him out of
the rock, and as soon as the door was closed be-
hind them there was nothing to show whence the
two had come. But the prince had no chance
to look closely at the rock, for the elf was strid-
ing away as fast as he could go, and the prince
almost ran to keep up with him. It was hard
to see the elf where the grass grew tall, for his
suit was the same color as the blades.
After going through a little wood they came
to a river, and upon its bank the Green Ma-
gician halted to await the prince. When the
prince arrived, the Green Magician dipped the
end of his hazel-twig just below the surface of
the water and waved it to and fro. Instantly a
smooth-sided pickerel slid into view, and re-
mained motionless near the twig, moving only
the flukes of his tail, as a lady lazily waves a
"I have brought you a pupil, Lurker in
Sedges," said the magician to the pike; and
then, turning to the prince, he pointed to the
river and said briefly, Jump in."
The prince answered never a word, but
sprang from the bank. But as he sprang, he
changed into a slim young pickerel; and he
glided beneath the surface without splashing
so much as a drop, poising himself at the side
of the other fish.
"Take him with you for a day," said the

Green Magician, "and make him know the
ways and the words of the fishes."
Then the fishes swam away, and the elf went
back to his great book- until the evening. At
evening the elf went again to the river bank,
and no sooner was he there than a young pick-
erel shot up from a pool before his feet and
changed, in falling, into the prince.
"And have you learned the life of the
fishes ? asked the elf as they went homeward.
Every fin-stroke," answered the prince.
The next day the Green Magician led the


prince to a lofty cliff, and, waving his hazel-
twig in the air, brought an eagle hovering be-
fore them.
I have brought you a. pupil, Air-Cleaver,"
said the magician; and, turning to the prince,
he pointed over the edge of the cliff, and said,
"Leap forth! "
The prince answered never a word, but
sprang forward into air; and as he leaped he
changed into an eaglet, hovering beside the
other bird.
"Take him with you for a day," said the
magician, and make him know the ways of
the birds and their language."
As the elf returned to his studies, the two
eagles shot away into space, and were gone until
the evening, when the elf received them again.
And have you learned the ways of bird-
folk ? asked the elf as they went homeward.
"To the last feather," said the prince.
On the third day, the prince became a fox,
and knew by evening all that the beasts could




-, 7
" F'


tell him; and the fourth day he spent with an
ant, deep in the earth or down among the grass
roots. And to the elf's inquiry the prince re-
plied that he now knew the ways of all animals,
and was again sent to bathe in the crystal basin
of the tiled room.
On the morning of the fifth day, the elf bade
him dress himself again in his own court cos-
tume -" for," said the Green Magician, "we
will to-day return to the palace."

As they came from the rock the prince and
his companion were butterflies once more, and
flew over the sunny fields to the palace. When
they reached the palace, the prince and the
magician fluttered against the queen's windows
until she opened the sash and let them in.
When they were once within the room, each
of the butterflies took his own shape again, and
stood before the queen.
"Why, my boy, how you have grown! ex-
claimed the queen, as she embraced the prince;
"and how long the years have seemed since
you went away! "
Years ? repeated the prince; "why, mo-
ther, what are you speaking of? Only four
days ago, I saw you."
My child," said the queen, "You are
dreaming or bewitched. Four years ago you
left me in this very room."
But the prince began, when the queen
interrupted him.
See," she said, "the young trees that were
planted upon the edge of the moat. They were
but saplings, and now they are- And see,"
she went on suddenly, "there is little Marie,
the gardener's daughter. She was two years
old when you went away. Look at her now."
The queen pointed to a little girl who was
plainly more than five years old at the very
But the prince could not believe that the
"four days" at the home of the Green Magi-
cian had been four years. He turned from
the window, meaning to question the little elf,
but the magician was nowhere to be found.
Where he had stood there was only a scrap of
parchment on which was written:

Prince, thou knowest the speech of all.
Now, where rises the tower tall
Thou must journey by land and sea.
There thy sister waits for thee.

And the prince hid the piece of parchment in
his wallet.
He was now a well-grown young fellow of
fifteen, strong and active; and after a few days
at home, he began to make preparations for
the long journey the elf's rhyme predicted.
Meanwhile, he must find out where the tall
tower was. So he went into the yard of the




palace, and he climbed the ladder that led up
to the pigeon-house. The pigeons began to
flutter and chatter and fly about as he came
near; but as the prince bent to the door of the
pigeon-house, he spoke softly and cooingly.
At once the pigeons ceased to fear him, flying
closely down in a throng around his head, and
seeming much excited, but not disturbed in the
Then, as the prince descended the ladder,
there was seen a curious sight. The flock of
pigeons rose into the air in a body, and, as they
reached a height, they separated, and flew every
one in a different direction, like the spokes of a
wheel. Further and further away they flew,
until only a wide ring of black dots was seen;
and at last, one by one, these dots went out.
That evening as the sun went down, the tired
pigeons, one by one, returned to the cote. The
prince sat up in an open window of the palace
looking down on the courtyard; and whenever
a new pigeon arrived, a beautiful white fantail
would fly from the cote straight to the window,
and seem to say something to the prince. But
the prince seemed more disappointed each time
the white pigeon came.
And when the sun went down all the pigeons
had returned except one. An hour two
hours went by without news from the missing
bird. At last the prince went to bed very sad,
fearing that one of his messengers had been
caught by a hawk, or shot by some huntsman.

But about the middle of the night there came
a tap, tap, tap against the glass of his window.
The prince sat up and rubbed his eyes. Tap,
tap, tap, tap! There was no mistake. The miss-
ing bird had returned, and was at the window
with the fantail pigeon.
The prince hurried to the window.
"Well ? said he.
"Master," answered the fantail, "here is High-
flyer, and he brings news."
"Speak, Highflyer," exclaimed the prince.
"I flew," said tired Highflyer, straight to
the edge of the sea, and then out far from the
land. Until near sunset I flew on, resting but
once on top of a ship's mast. And when the
sky was red, I saw against the bright west a tall,
straight tower where never was tower before.
Still I went on, and came near the tower. But
as I came very near, there flew out from one of
its lower windows a fierce hawk that screamed
at me. I turned and flew home, finding rest
on a bit of driftwood."
Did you see any one in the tower ? asked
the prince.
"Just before the hawk flew out, I thought I
saw a face in the topmost window; and the face
was like yours, my master."
I thank you. Here is a little token for your
neck," said the prince; "for I think you have
found the dwarf's tower."
Then he put a golden chain upon Highflyer's
pretty neck, and the pigeons flew away.

(To be concluded.)



WHEN it drizzles and drizzles,
If we cheerfully smile,
We can make the weather,
By working together,
As fair as we choose in a little while.
For who will notice that clouds are drear
If pleasant faces are always near,
And who will remember that skies are gray
If he carries a happy heart all day.


(A Story of the Year 30 A. D.)


[Begun in ite November number.]



LONG were the conferences that Sabbath day
between Ezra and his children, for they talked
until late in the evening.
Ezra had much to relate of all that he had
seen and done since he and Cyril parted on
the slope of Mount Gilboa. Cyril and Lois,
on the other hand, had endless questions to ask,
concerning not only the past, but the future.
But Ezra's deepest interest was in what they
had to tell him concerning Jesus of Nazareth.
He is the true Son of David," Ezra at last
exclaimed. Cyril, thou wilt follow him. I
trust that thou wilt yet be a captain in his army.
He said to me, It is but a little while.' We
must be ready. I am thankful that my own
hand can once more swing the hammer and
draw the sword! Thou art grown tall and
strong; and thou hast studied the Roman le-
gions. Thou wilt yet throw a pilum as far as
Pontius himself, but thou hast yet to learn to
put a legion in line, and thou knowest little
about the handling of a shield."
"I have practised with a wooden shield,"
said Cyril. I could catch whatever the Ca-
pernaum fisher-boys could throw. We made a
game of it on the beach."
That is well," said Ezra, soberly; but the
battle-shield is heavier. Thou must harden thy
left arm for it with boxing and lifting. Not
many men can lift quickly the buckler of a Ro-
man legionary."
"The soldier I pelted across the Kishon
could handle his shield well," said Cyril, "or
he would have fared ill."
When it was time to. rest, Ezra went to

the house of a friend, a disciple of John the
All day, and into the evening, the Master
had been preaching and healing, and people
said that in the morning he would be on the
shore of the lake.
"I shall be there," Ezra had said. "I must
hear him once more before I return to Judea.
I think I shall have somewhat to send to the
Baptizer, in the dungeon of the Black Castle."
Just as Cyril and Lois parted, she said:
I wish you could see the tallith I am work-
ing for Nathanael of Cana. He ordered it when
he came here to listen to the Teacher. He was
here again to-day. He and Isaac are not
friends any more. Isaac has quarreled with
Already, therefore, there were bitter factions
forming for and against the doctrines of the
prophet of Nazareth. Many who had been
friendly were becoming enemies; and it was
said that in some of the families of Capernaum
and elsewhere even near kindred were taking
opposite sides.
"I don't see how anybody can be against
one who does only good," said Lois.
All Herod's people oppose him," said Cyril,
" and rabbis like Isaac."
Ezra and his son and daughter were among
the great crowd that gathered on the beach
the next morning.
Closer and closer pressed the eager multi-
tude, and the little company of disciples with
whom the Master stood was compelled to give
way. They were at the head of a little cove
and there were several boats there, pulled up on
the sand.
"'That is Simon's boat," whispered Cyril to
Lois. There are no fish in it, and he has left
his nets there. Perhaps he means to try again."


"Look!" she replied. "The Teacher is
getting into the boat with his disciples. He
can preach from the boat without being pressed
upon by the multitude."
The Pharisees and other enemies were there,
listening as intently as did even Ezra. Every
now and then Ezra's right hand was thrust out
as if it were grasping something, and more than
once it went to his left side, where a sword
might hang; and his face glowed with enthusi-
asm. Cyril and Lois glanced back and forth
from their father's face to that of the Master.
Simon pushed his boat into the lake, aided
by other fishermen, for it was large and heavy,
and they anchored it not many feet from the
shore. The land came down around the little
cove somewhat steeply, and all the throng on
the grassy slope, down to the gravel of the
shore, could both hear and see.
Parable after parable was told, like so many
pictures painted in words.
At length the discourse was at an end, and
the Master spoke to Simon the fisherman:
Launch out into the deep, and let down
your nets for a draught."
"Master," replied Simon, "we have toiled
all the night and have taken nothing: neverthe-
less, at thy word I will let down the net."
The Master sat silently at the stern of the
boat while the fishermen made their cast. It
was a large, heavy net, that required three or
four men to handle it. No wonder even strong
men should grow weary, casting such a net as
that, and dragging it back empty, through the
water. There came a shout from the boat, the
moment after the net was thrown, and then
Lois," exclaimed Cyril, "it is so full they
cannot pull it in! Father, let us get John's
boat! It belongs to him and James. Quick!"
Simon and the rest were already beckoning
and calling, and the second boat started as if
of itself, so prompt and vigorous were the hands
that sent it from the shore.
All the people along the shore could now see
that the great net was actually breaking with
its multitude of fishes, and the fishermen of
both parties were lifting out the catch with
their hands.
This boat can carry no more," said Cyril, a

few minutes later. "She is deep in the water
Simon, in the other boat, fell upon his knees
before the Master, saying, "Depart from me;
for I am a sinful man, 0 Lord!"
The others looked on in astonished silence,
but the answer was heard by all:
Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt catch
The boats were pulled to the shore, towing
the net with the fishes that remained in it, but
when it got there the catch had to be cared for
by others, for Simon and Andrew and John
and James and the rest who were of the Twelve
seemed to care no more for boats or nets or
fish. They at once left all behind them and
walked away with Jesus into Capernaum.
It was late that evening when Ezra and his
son stood face to face in a lonely, rocky place,
a mile or so south of Capernaum.
I think they have already ordered my ar-
rest," said Ezra. Once in prison, I should
never be released. They might send me to the
galleys, for they need strong rowers and care
little whence they come."
We shall drive them all out some day," said
Cyril, bitterly. They treat us worse than if we
were dogs."
Our day is coming," replied Ezra. I shall
be ready, whether itbe sooner or later. Be thou
also ready, and leave the day and the hour to
the Leader. A soldier must wait for orders."
They bade each other farewell, and Ezra
disappeared among the rocks and shadowy trees,
while his son turned toward Capernaum. The
boy's heart was hot and angry, full of hatred for
the men who were ready to slay his father, and,
indeed, were oppressing his entire people.



THERE were long intervals when even the
friends of Jesus in Capernaum, which they re-
garded as his home, had but uncertain informa-
tion as to what precise part of the country he
was visiting. News of his intended return
at any time, however, was sure to come well in
advance of his arrival. There came a day


when such an announcement had been bringing
into the town crowds of people. Some of them
had come at a venture from long distances. It
was a day for suspending ordinary work and
trade; but it was more than ever manifest that
the enemies and detractors of Jesus were bitter
and busy. Of these, the more active, if not the
greater number, were men who, like Ben Nas-
sur, were in the habit of speaking with some-
thing of authority. They had been greatly
encouraged by assurances coming from Jeru-
salem that the prophet of Nazareth was not
recognized by the learned doctors, the priests,
and dignitaries of the Holy City.
The crowd began to gather early at the shore
of the lake, and Jesus was already there to heal
the sick, and to put into the minds of men,
those who came out of mere curiosity, such
parables as could not be easily forgotten.
Greater grew the throng, and it pressed him
more and more closely. There was no means
for compelling order or forbearance. Friends
and enemies alike jostled one another for the
nearest places. If there was a kind of lull at
noon, it was only that the struggle might begin
again soon afterwards.
Lois listened until weariness overcame her,
but only once did she come near enough to see
the Master's face. Cyril, too, was there, and
late in the day, Simon Peter, standing near the
Master, saw the boy in the crowd and beckoned
to him.
Go thou," said Simon, speaking low to
Cyril, and get my boat. Have it ready at the
shore. The Master will cross to the other side.
They press upon him."
Away went Cyril, glad indeed of such an er-
rand, for it seemed like a beginning of service
to the Master. As for the boat, he knew where
it lay. It would have been too heavy for him
to manage in the open lake, but he could loosen
its fastenings and slowly scull it along until he
reached a place opposite the little point to
which Jesus and his disciples were making their
way, hampered by the eager multitude.
It was growing late, but the Teacher could
hardly have retreated into Capernaum. It
would have been of little use to have sought
rest or retirement in any house. So it was
really as to a kind of refuge that he stepped

into the boat when it was sculled to the shore.
He was at once followed by certain of his
disciples, and they promptly took the oars.
The day's work was done, both its healing
and its preaching, and the boat went swiftly
over the water.
The Master was in sore need of rest, after so
long a toil, and before many minutes Cyril
heard one of those in the boat whisper to an-
"See; he sleeps."
"How tired he must have been! was the
other's reply.
The gentle motion of the boat, rising and
falling over wave after wave, had caused the
Master to fall asleep, and he lay on a pallet-
cushion in the stern.
It was the first time that Cyril had seen the
Master's face when it was at rest. Cyril had
always seen him either speaking or listening to
others, or intent upon some happening.
The face was uncovered only for a moment,
for one of the disciples gently spread out a
scarf to protect it from the flying spray carried
on the wind, which was rising fast. It was
one of the sudden storms so common on the
Sea of Gennesaret, which were so dangerous to
the light fishing-craft, as well as to the gaudy
pleasure-boats of the dwellers in the palaces
along the shore. Fierce hurricanes would at
times sweep down upon the little sea, almost
without notice, and dash its surface into foam-
ing billows as difficult to deal with as those of
the great seas.
On toiled the rowers, but they made slow
headway; and manifestly the storm was increas-
ing. The creaking of the oars, the crash of the
waves, the roar of the tempest, the shouts of the
frightened crew made no impression upon the
over-wearied sleeper at the stern of the boat.
He slept soundly even when the waters came
surging in over the gunwales, and the oarsmen
were almost hurled from their seats.
Cyril was not rowing, and he had therefore
perched himself at the prow, where he could
look back upon all in the boat. He could
make out only terrified faces dimly visible be-
tween blinding drifts of sea-spray.
Master! he heard shouted loudly by one
of the disciples, and then he saw another actu-





ally seizing the sleeper's hand to awaken him,
while he exclaimed:
"Lord, save us: we perish! "
The sea was pouring into the boat, and it
seemed all too late for any power to oppose
that tempest.
"We shall surely go down!" thought Cyril;
but he saw the awakened Master arise and look
calmly around upon the tossing water.
"Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? "
he said to the disciples.
Then Jesus seemed to rebuke the winds and
the sea, and there was a great calm. No man
among those in the boat said a word to the
Master as they took to their oars and pulled
away; but Cyril heard them murmur, reverently,
astonished, to one another: "What manner of
man is this, that even the winds and the sea
obey him!"
The night was far spent when the boat touched
the shore on the easterly side of the lake. It
had been a night of great apparent peril, and
such was the wonder at the Master's power that
all on board were thoughtful and silent. Hardly
a word was spoken now, as they one by one
stepped ashore. The Master himself was evi-
dently recovered from his great fatigue, and he
led the way up the sloping shore, followed by
his disciples.
"Thou canst put up the light sail safely,"
said Simon Peter to Cyril. Therefore take
thou the boat back to Capernaum. We can
obtain another if we need one."
So he walked away, and Cyril prepared to
do as he was bidden, but he sat by the boat
for a while, trying to recall the picture of the
hurricane in the night, the terrified disciples,
the half-filled boat, and the Master speaking to
the waves and rebuking the fierce gusts of the
The idea was taking shape in Cyril's mind,
.although he was hardly conscious of this, that
he whom even the elements obeyed was some-
thing more than man.
Cyril put up the sail. It was small, and it
could be used to advantage only when the wind
was favorable. There was so little wind that
not only was there no danger, but hour after
hour went by tediously while the boat floated
homeward, hardly leaving a ripple in her wake.

ANOTHER summer had passed, and the pleas-
ant autumn weather had arrived. With it had
come abundant crops for those who raised them,
but there was little profit to the landholders,
because of the excessive taxes and other exac-
tions which their oppressors laid upon them.
As for the Prophet, the Teacher, the Man
of Nazareth, the Roman officers and the ser-
vants of Herod were not disturbed about him.
There was no danger to the Romans from him,
for, month after month, he devoted himself to
healing the sick and to preaching. There was
not so much as a sword or a shield displayed
among all who followed him.
The Jewish rulers, priests, and scribes, how-
ever, felt differently; for even the most learned
rabbis understood that their influence over the
people was lessening. Here was one, they
had learned, who in all his teachings hardly
ever quoted from any rabbi, but spoke as if he
himself were the only authority required, except
when he referred to the Scriptures themselves,
the books of the Prophets, or the Psalms of Da-
vid. John the Baptizer had done the same, in
part, for he had denounced even the highest
Pharisees. John was now safely shut up in the
Black Castle; but what was to be done with
this man, who did not scruple to compare the
Pharisees to vipers ?
These men were growing more bitter and
more threatening every day; and each new ex-
hibition of power seemed only to harden their
hearts against the Man of Nazareth, because it
increased his influence over the people.
Cyril was beginning to be impatient for the
restoration of the kingdom of David, and he
grew more and more dissatisfied and restless un-
til, one evening, he came to. Lois, at Abigail's,
with a very determined look on his face. He
had said but a few words before he suddenly
I mean to go to Jerusalem to keep the Feast
of Tabernacles."
He may have expected her to be surprised,
but a pleased light sprang into her face, and
she was silent for a moment. Then she re-
plied with cordial sympathy:





" I did not tell thee, but I had thought of more thought to his personal appearance than
- for thee, not for me. I have thought thou had Cyril himself. He told her, when she
lightest find father. He would be so glad, showed him the new abba, that the only change
nd so wouldst thou." of costume he really longed to make was to
change his turban for
a helmet, and his tu-
nic for a coat of mail.
"I saw father in ar-
mor once," exclaimed
Lois, "when I was

like a Roman centu-

he looked so brave!
I am glad he was a
warrior, but I hope
thou wilt not have
to put on mail. Fa-
ther would be as good
a soldier as any Ro-
man, now his right
hand is whole. But
thou wilt be prudent,
Cyril ? Thou wilt not
do anything foolish ?
Thou wilt come back
fi / safe from Jerusalem?"
S"Many go safely
every year," said Cy-
ril, reassuringly. "But
I shall find father --I
know I shall and I
must do as he says.
A host of Galileans
.7 will attend the feast
this year."
The large number
of visitors to Jerusa-
lem was because of
the excellent harvests,
for the Feast of the
'CYRIL SAT BY THE BOAT FOR A WHILE." for the Feast of the
Tabernacles among
"I have saved money enough," Cyril said. the Jews somewhat corresponded in character
"Thou wilt need it all," said Lois, thought- to the American Thanksgiving Day. It came
Ily; but I have made thee a good new abba, earlier, because the season in Palestine is ear-
it of some material Abigail gave to me. Thou lier. It was celebrated in October, after all the
nst buy thee a new tunic. Then thou wilt principal crops had been gathered in the colder
)t look like a beggar, on the way or in the hill country as well as in the warm and fertile
ty." valleys.
Cyril thanked his sister, but she had given Simple were the preparations required by



Cyril, a hardy fisher-boy. With new sandals,
robe, and tunic, and with more than ten shek-
els, in varied coin, hoarded for his traveling ex-
penses, he was well equipped. He did not
need to leave money with Lois, for she was
prospering. She was justly proud of the praises
lavished upon her embroidery, and she had
been entrusted even with the decoration of a
costly scarf ordered by a Roman lady.
It was painful when the time for parting
came for Lois to say farewell to her brother.
She controlled herself, however, and made him
promise to return as soon as he could, bringing
with him a full account of all that he should
see or hear in Jerusalem.
Jerusalem was the center of the world, almost
of heaven and earth, to the Jews, and from
all corners of the known world there came to
it pilgrims who had heard of its beauty and
Cyril decided to travel by way of Cana and
of Nazareth. Beyond that, southerly, he did not
intend to pass nearer the city of Samaria than he
could help. Lois had argued that her brother
would be safer and his journey pleasanter in
company with the party of his friends and kins-
folk, of which Rabbi Isaac Ben Nassur would be
the head. In this Lois proved to be mistaken.
Cyril did indeed reach Cana, walking cheer-
fully all the 'way and not spending a denary.
He did not need to pay out anything for re-
freshments by the way, when such delicious figs
and grapes could be had abundantly, either for
the asking, or wherever the ripened fruit hung
out beyond a boundary wall. Such was the
Jewish custom, and Cyril also looked forward
to a hearty and hospitable welcome at Cana.
He would have been welcomed in some of the
houses, for instance in that of Nathanael; but
Cyril went to the wrong door. It was the same
which had opened to him so freely during the
wedding feast, after his escape from Samaria and
his exploit at the crossing of the Kishon. Both
of those happenings had made him doubly wel-
come there, but latterly he had been doing that
of which Ben Nassur disapproved. Cyril had
been much with the Man of Nazareth, and
Rabbi Ben Nassur was offended.
Cyril did not think of this as he walked up
the sloping street toward the house of the rabbi.

There was the well, unchanged, and there,
close by it, stood the six great water-jars of stone,
just as they had been on the day of the wedding.
One of them was full, and Cyril paused to wash,
preparatory to presenting himself at the house.
Cyril, my son "
It was the voice of old Hannah, Ben Nassur's
wife, and Cyril turned suddenly to greet her,
hardly noticing the frightened tone in which she
Her look and manner were by no means un-
kindly, but she cried, Go not into the house,
Cyril, or Isaac will curse thee! He will not
permit any follower of Jesus of Nazareth to en-
ter. One such was here the other day."
He did not forbid him to come in?" ex-
claimed Cyril. "Who was it?"
I know not his name," she said. A short,
spare man. He crossed the threshold, and as he
did so he said,' Peace be unto this house, in the
name of Jesus of Nazareth.' "
And did Isaac began Cyril, but Hannah
interrupted :
Do not thou ask what he said, for his words
were cruel. And the disciple of Jesus did but
take off his sandals and strike them against the
doorpost, saying something I did not hear. He
went away to Nathanael's house, but Isaac will
not speak of him."
Get thee hence "
Angry, fierce, threatening were the words that
came from the porch of Ben Nassur's house at
that moment. Under the vines from which the
purple clusters had so recently been gathered
stood the tall, dignified form of the rabbi.
Cyril had never before seen him so well dressed,
for his robe was new and embroidered, his tallith
also was new and fine, and on his head was a
spotless turban of fine linen. He was evidently
more prosperous than formerly, and he had
more than ever the air of authority which of
right belonged to the wisest, most learned man
in Cana.
It had recently been asserted, also, that Ben
Nassur was more learned in the Law than any
rabbi in Nazareth, and it was said by some
that he had greatly strengthened the Nazarenes
in their zeal against their law-breaking fellow
townsmen. Jesus could not now have found a
safe home in Nazareth, neither could his boy





follower be admitted to the house of his learned His mandate had been openly ignored by the
kinsman. It did not soften Ben Nassur even Master, and there might be therefore a personal
when Hannah explained to her husband that bitterness in Isaac's denunciation.
Cyril was on his way to Jerusalem to attend Cyril raised his head and felt as if he were
the Feast of Tabernacles, in compliance with growing stronger.
the law. Peace had departed from that house, Do not answer him," pleaded Hannah,
so far as the new Teacher and his disciples were hardly more than whispering. He is a good
concerned, and terrible indeed were the words, man. When thou seest the Man of Nazareth
quoted in Hebrew from the old Scriptures, tell him we all love him for the good that he
which Ben Nassur hurled at Cyril. has done. Do not regard Isaac -"
Cyril was really frightened, for the sword- But Cyril's blood was rising somewhat an-
maker's son had been brought up with deep grily, for Isaac was saying more while the
reverence for all rabbis, and
especially for Ben Nassur.
He regarded him as a great '
authority in all matters of re-
ligion and the Law, and the
curse of such a dignitary was
a thing to be feared exceed-
ingly. It made the young trav-
eler, a moment before so joy-
ous and so hopeful, stand pale i
and trembling by the well be-
fore the house he might not
enter. He was as one cast
out by his kindred; for such
a curse would be known, soon,
to all of the family connection,
near and far, and such of them
as reverenced the -rabbi would
refuse to receive Cyril.
"Jesus of Nazareth hath :
despised the Law!" shouted
Ben Nassur. "He hath defied /
the priests of his people. He
hath denounced the chief
scribes and rulers. He hath
denied the teachings of the
rabbis. Get thee hence! thou
art no longer of my kinsmen.
Thou art of the disciples of
the Nazarene! "
The rabbi was vehement in .
his wrath, but Cyril suddenly
remembered something that
time it occurred. It had been MlY KINSMEN!' "
Ben Nassur himself who would have openly young man waited, and his maledictions now
forbidden Jesus to restore the hand of Ezra, included Ezra the swordmaker and Lois and
on the Sabbath, in the synagogue of Capernaum. all the disciples and followers of the Master.


I must speak," he said to Hannah, and he
turned toward the porch.
Very imposing, in dignity and authority, ap-
peared the large form of the white-robed, white-
turbaned rabbi, while his deep, sonorous voice
was thundering his wrath.
"Isaac Ben Nassur," said Cyril, much more
sturdily than he had thought he could speak to
so great a man, I go to Jerusalem, to the
Feast of Tabernacles. I go to the Temple, but
I go not with thee. Seest thou these water-
pots ? They witness against thee. So witness-
eth the right hand of my father Ezra. Thou
knowest that Jesus is the son of David, and I
- the son of Ezra the Swordmaker I am of
his disciples, even as thou hast said. I believe
he is the king who is to redeem Israel. My
father also believes in him."

Bitter and terrible were the Hebrew words
hurled after Cyril as he turned and strode down
the street again. Hannah went into the house,
weeping; but her young kinsman did not pause
in his rapid walking until he was more than
a mile beyond the gate of Cana.
There he stood still for a moment, and
looked back, as if in deep thought. Then he
said aloud:
I will go on to Jerusalem alone. I do not
need the company of Isaac and his Galileans.
I will worship in the Temple, and I will offer
my sacrifices. I will see my father. But on
my way I will enter into no house nor sleep
under any roof, lest it fall on me. I shall be
safe from the. curse of Isaac Ben Nassur and
the Law, after I have offered my lamb on the
altar of burnt offering."

(To be continued.)


RAIN, silver rain,
Twinkling on the pane!
The earth drinks softly what it needs,
The gray sky lowers like a pall,
The bare twigs string the drops like beads,
And still the silver showers fall.
Rain, rain, rain,- silver, dropping rain !

Rain, pearly rain,
Gliding down the pane.
The fence-rails have a crystal edge,
The brimming spouts pour fountains free,
The flowers on the window ledge
Are fresh and bright as they can be.
Rain, rain, rain,-pearly, gliding rain!

Rain, sparkling rain,
Shining on the pane.
A bit of blue in yonder sky,
Swift signs of clearing all about,
Some broken clouds drift quickly by,
And lo! the sun is shining out.
Good-by, rain,- shining, sparkling rain !

A. I. W.





IT had been decided that Bob should not go
to see the races on Thanksgiving Day. As
Bob was only four years old, there had not been
much doubt felt in the family as to the im-
propriety of allowing "the kid to witness the
athletic games. Uncle Ted," as Bob called him,
Theodore, as he was known to the rest of the
world -had determined views on the subject.
He was to be one of the contestants in the 440-
yard dash, (to the uninitiated, the quarter-
mile dash) and he was certain that the young-
ster ought to stay at home.
The truth of the matter was that Bob's
mother was Theodore's favorite sister, and the
young athlete was afraid that the doting mama
would be too much absorbed in looking after

her small son to note the triumphs or failures
of "the fellows."
Theodore Ballard had been in training for a
month past. He went into town daily to col-
lege, but every evening was conscientiously de-
voted to practice in running; and yet, as he
confessed frankly, although nervously, to his in-
terested sister, there was hardly a show" for
him. Until a fortnight ago he had been rather
hopeful; then his high hopes had been crushed
by the appearance in the quiet town of Milton
of a young collegian famous in his set for his
muscle and staying powers. At the earnest ap-
peal of the captain of the Milton Athletic Team,.
he had entered his name on the 440-yard dash.
He was a senior in college, but for some weeks



past his eyes had given him so much trouble
that he had been obliged to suspend all study,
and was now visiting friends in Milton. Theo-
dore's private opinion was that he had been
sent home because of some bit of mischief;
but of this he was not sure. The fact that he
belonged to a rival college added intensity to
Ballard's desire to see him beaten. He him-
self was only a sophomore, with, consequently,
two years less of such athletic work as college-
life brings with it.
Outsiders little guessed how great was Theo-
dore's chagrin at the entrance upon the lists
of so strong a rival.
His sister had always been his confidante,
and into her ears he poured forth his complaint
shortly after her arrival at the Milton home-
stead on Thanksgiving eve. She lived in the
neighboring city, in which her husband was a
prosperous lawyer; but all holidays were spent
at the old home.
"I declare," confessed the would-be victor,
"if it were not for the shame of the thing I
would back out of the whole affair. It would
look mean to desert the team now at the last
minute. But I am sure I shall be wretchedly
Oh, perhaps not," was the soothing reply,
which, however, did not raise the boy's de-
pressed spirits.
But, Anna, I know I shall be. That fellow
Thorndyke and I have had several friendly
trials of speed, in practice, you know, and I
vow he beats me every time! And of course
he glories in it. He is as confident of success
to-morrow as I am of defeat. I 'm completely
discouraged! "
It was here that Bob, the only grandson and
the pet of the entire household (with the ex-
ception of Theodore, who was just at the age
when he imagined he "did not like small
children "), put in his feeble plea.
"Mama, may n'.t I go and see Uncle Ted
wun waces ?"
Not much, you don't! growled the uncle.
"Not if I know it! I want all your mother's
attention for our team to-morrow. Kids are
desperately in the way at such a place. They
stand in the track and very likely they get
knocked over, and bring down upon their in-

nocent heads the maledictions of all interested
Theodore was only eighteen, and conse-
quently intolerant. His nephew was sufficiently
impressed by this outburst to hold his peace,
and resign himself to a morning at home with
his nurse.
Thanksgiving Day dawned cool and fair, but
not cold.
'"Just the weather for running," exclaimed
Theodore, as the household assembled in the
cheerful breakfast-room.
There were not many to celebrate Thanks-
giving, but the few were all there Mr. and
Mrs. Ballard, Theoddre, Mrs. Newman (Sister
Anna), little Bob, and Tom Newman. The last
named was a rollicking, jolly fellow, who was,
as Theodore acknowledged, "the best kind of a
"Well, young man," said Tom, "we shall
all turn out in force to see you win the race this
"Win? No such luck!" was the discour-
aged rejoinder. I wish that man Thorndyke
was in the Desert of Sahara! If- he was out
of it I might stand some chance against the
other fellows."
Oh, come, my son," said his father, "keep
up a brave heart."
"Yes, dear," urged Mrs. Ballard, gently, "the
race is not always to the swift."
But it is to the fellow who has had most
training, and whose wind holds out best," an-
swered the boy. "I say,-" with an abrupt
change of subject,-" why can't the kid say
grace this morning? He is the youngest mem-
ber of the party."
All heads were bowed as Bob's round and
curly pate bent low over the tray in front of him,
and then the childish treble broke the silence.
Bwess, 0 Lord, we pway thee, this food to
our use, and us to Thy service, and let Uncle
Ted win the wace to-day. Amen."
Grandma frowned down the father's and
grandfather's smiles of amusement at this unique
petition, and stern Uncle Ted said, with a queer
little choke in his voice:
I say, kid, you 're a nice little chap, and
you deserve to go to the races this morning.
May n't he go, Anna ? "


Mrs. Newman refrained from reminding her
impulsive brother that it was he, not she, who
had objected to Bob's joining the party, and
readily promised that he should go.
The runner's breakfast was a slight affair and
soon over.
It does not do for a fellow to eat much be-
fore he runs," he explained in reply to his
mother's anxious objections.
But the family thought that he did not seem
very hungry.
After breakfast they took Mr. Ballard's two
double carriages, and drove to the Milton Club-
House, in front of which stretched the half-
mile of straight, smooth, dirt road which was to
serve as race-track. Here they alighted, that
they might be as near the scene of action as
The games were called for ten o'clock,
and promptly at that hour the tests of skill in
hammer-throwing, shot-putting, and jumping
began. To all of these Bob paid little heed.
His only thought was for Uncle Ted and the
forthcoming trial of speed. After the 75-yard
and the ioo-yard dashes were over, the Cap-
tain of the Team announced that The Event
of the Day, the 440-yard dash, would now
take place. All Milton had turned out on this
holiday. From the operatives in the mill to
the richest landholder in the township, all were
there with their families, and all were eager to
see how "that Thorndyke" could run. The
contestants for "The Event" were Smythe,
Gordon, Thorndyke, and Ballard. As the four
emerged from the club house a murmur arose
among the spectators. The four were clad
in regulation running costume, which, Bob
whispered to his mother, "made them look
awfully undwessed." Finding that they were
to be driven to the start, they all donned their
ulsters, and with an air of great importance
jumped into Mr. Ballard's carriage, in which
the coachman sat grinningly waiting to con-
vey them the quarter-mile up the road to the
Just before the race began, Bob caught his
father's hand convulsively.
"Papa," he whispered, "could n't you lift
me up on top of that fence, so I could see
the end of the wace?"

Milton did not possess a grand stand, so the
people were sitting and standing as close to the
course as they could get. One side of the road
was guarded by the committee of arrangements,
who kept too eager youths from infringing upon
the track. The other side was separated from
a field by a stout board fence, and it was to
this post of observation that Bob longingly
aspired. His father, willing to humor the little
fellow, fought his way through the crowd and set
the delighted child upon the fence, about fifty
yards from the end of the track.
A shout from the crowd told that the start
had been made. Down the road they came,
four abreast for a few yards, heads bent, elbows
at sides, and feet beating the track as if in uni-
son. Then Smythe fell behind, and in a mo-
ment Gordon twisted his ankle and subsided
into a limping dog-trot. Smythe still struggled
pluckily onward, although many yards behind
the others.
So the race was really between Ballard and
Thorndyke. For an eighth of a mile they were
side by side, and then easily, as if without effort,
Thorndyke gained a yard on his opponent. A
shout of mingled disappointment and delight
went up from the spectators. The air rang with
cries of, "Ballard -brace up, Ballard!" and
"Thorndyke! Thorndyke! "
Nearer and nearer they drew to the finish.
To Theodore it seemed as if he could never
make up the difference between himself and the
senior athlete. At his side, just that little dis-
tance in front, the fellow stayed, and Theodore
felt that there he would remain, as he was sure
that his own muscles were strained to the ut-
most. The blood surged to his ears, the many
voices seemed all blended in one subdued roar.
The people on each side of him were a con-
fused mass.
Suddenly from out of the tumult he heard one
clear, shrill voice. He glanced quickly up, and
in that second saw Bob, held on the top rail of
the fence by his father's restraining arm, his
whole little body quivering with excitement, the
curly head glistening in the sun as he waved his
cap' wildly. His eyes were fastened with an
expression of desperate eagerness on the man
who was being beaten, and it was little Bob
whose voice Theodore heard.



"Uncle Ted! Uncle Ted! rang out the
clear voice. Go it! Oh, go it!"
The young man's head was suddenly thrown
back with a defiant fling, his broad shoulders
seemed to leap forward, the muscles in his legs
and arms tightened like whip-cord, and, before
the astonished crowd could catch their breath,
Ballard had come in ahead of Thorndyke by
two yards, winning the great race!
I never thought the fellow could spurt like
that! "panted the vanquished collegian. He
never did it before "
Friends pressed about Ballard all eagerly
congratulating him upon his remarkable victory,
and exclaiming.
"I say, old fellow!" queried an admiring
chum, "how under the sun did you make that
gorgeous spurt?"
With a shaky laugh Theodore forced his way
to where Tom Newman stood with Bob in
his arms. Seizing the child, the .victor set him
on his shoulder, exclaiming with grateful voice:

" This is the little fellow who won the race!
Bob was my Mascot!"

Bob's eyes grew round with wonder at dinner
when Uncle Ted slipped on his plate one choice
morsel of turkey after another. And when
darkness fell, and he sat in Uncle Ted's lap in
the firelight listening to marvelous stories of
the Olympian games and the Greek athletes, he
was the happiest little man in Milton.
Oh! sighed the child as he kissed his mo-
ther good-night at eight o'clock, and stretched
himself out in his little bed, "this has been a
lovely Thanksgiving, because Uncle Ted beat
the other man. If he had n't, Mama, I am
afwaid I should just have died!"
Down in the parlor at the same moment
Theodore was saying:
Mother, what a nice little chap that is of
Anna's! I never noticed him much before, for
I don't care for youngsters. But I tell you,
that kid is a regular star!"

NO Fishing


On these Prem.i ses




bu '
Oft -'

Lies kugh atmortds' folly
boosting of tieir wondrous tol,
ley were fst I know it well,
run line from dell to dell.

spicier spins, ot course, the
ie ire-fiies mate the sp
line is hung f.om tree To
Ind the moTor-mrnn is Z I





o cb n Jum nJ buzz ,s well
S s nc te dons. &til ldue 1Iell


S1lKey were, ,
In giddyoowr5n of .
,osso0 mer', ",
i frill and fluff sd silken puff
AAnd flowery haTs uiTe broad enouKh.
AJ.ooodly sight indeed 1o see
Th 5 ey ,enT down T1 Cloverly.

S. breeze it was c sucy breeze ,
Tha TcauchuSht eir billowy draperies,
,And like Two puffs of ihisTle-down ,
X/enr floaTir wilA iKem intob Town. ""'<
,J wondrous silgh indeed To see
J\bove Ike roofs of Cloverley !

1 |wo sober maids tIKt
S, ,night T ey -were
S hro doffed Those
g9owns of 0ossamer!
They'd (hd enough of frill emd puff,
They cared no more for silken sTuff,
,And -now IKey look as here you see
Vhen ihey o down to Coverley!

S;/' .',-'. -' .




OH, Make-Believe Town is a place of delight
Where wondrous things happen from morn-
ing till night.
You may go there in tatters, when, lo and be-
In an instant you 're decked out in velvet
and gold!

You take there a broomstick, and, quick as a
It 's transformed to a charger, all fire and
dash !
Or a lovely white pony with long, silky mane,
Side-saddle, gilt stirrups, and blue-ribbon rein!

The old rocking-chair, without arms or a back,
Can be changed to a chariot, engine, or hack.
The plain, wooden floor in five minutes can be
A race-course, a circus, a desert, a sea!

And the closet, a castle where big giants wait
. To capture the first one who comes to their gate!
In a wink it's a cave where bold bad robbers
Or a den where fierce dragons and ogres

You 've only to wish it, when lo at your feet
Is a fine desert island, rock-bound and com-
You 've only to speak,--in an instant you can
Be Robinson Crusoe, or Friday, his man!

Whatever you wish for, it 's waiting for you;
Whatever you dream of, that dream will
come true!
You can be what you will, from a king to a
If once you gain entrance to Make-Believe



OH, Make-Believe Town is a place of delight
Where wondrous things happen from morn-
ing till night.
You may go there in tatters, when, lo and be-
In an instant you 're decked out in velvet
and gold!

You take there a broomstick, and, quick as a
It 's transformed to a charger, all fire and
dash !
Or a lovely white pony with long, silky mane,
Side-saddle, gilt stirrups, and blue-ribbon rein!

The old rocking-chair, without arms or a back,
Can be changed to a chariot, engine, or hack.
The plain, wooden floor in five minutes can be
A race-course, a circus, a desert, a sea!

And the closet, a castle where big giants wait
. To capture the first one who comes to their gate!
In a wink it's a cave where bold bad robbers
Or a den where fierce dragons and ogres

You 've only to wish it, when lo at your feet
Is a fine desert island, rock-bound and com-
You 've only to speak,--in an instant you can
Be Robinson Crusoe, or Friday, his man!

Whatever you wish for, it 's waiting for you;
Whatever you dream of, that dream will
come true!
You can be what you will, from a king to a
If once you gain entrance to Make-Believe



CLARISSY ANN sat in the field on a stump,
and looked about her dejectedly.
The prospect was well calculated to depress
one, for all around was mud-slimy, oozy mud,
such as the Mississippi bottomland is capable of
turning into under prolonged rains; and there


had been a steady downpour of rain for many
of the days since Clarissy Ann and her mother
had moved into the bottoms.
Ef maw did n't chill allus, an' it did n't
rain allus, an' Solomon John did n' cry allus,
I would n' feel so beat-out, an' mout git in my
craps; but laws! wot 's gwine to be done in
sech a sloo es this 'n ? "
Thus she thought, shaking her kinky head

meanwhile; and just then a portly colored
woman came to the cabin-door, and shouted:
"Clarissy Ann! Come in, chile. Solomon
John 's cryin', an' I 'm chillin' ag'in. An'
dey 's a shower coming' up, an' you mus' git
suppa-dough dey ain't much to git, sut-
tinly! "
So Clarissy Ann, at this cheerful confirmation
of her thought, shouldered her hoe and, with a
heavy sigh, went in.
It was very cheerless in the cabin. The fire
was nearly out, and the ashes on the hearth
had the discouraged look that dead ashes al-
ways have; and altogether, for a moment, Cla-
rissy Ann felt inclined to bury her head in the
pillow beside the howling infant Solomon John,
and cry, too. And that afternoon Mr. Jones,
their landlord, was to come for the rent.
A month or two before this, there had
rapped at Mr. Jones's door, one day, a small
colored girl. Her hair was in tight rolls, like
small sausages, and stuck straight out in all di-
rections. It may have been because these were
so tight that her eyes were so very wide open.
When Mr. Jones, who was a rich, eccentric,
and crabbed old bachelor, saw her, he sharply
demanded her errand.
"I 's wantin' to rent dat cabin on de bot-
tomlan' from you, sah," she announced,
promptly, with a wide, amiable smile.
But the smile met no response on Mr. Jones's
face. Instead, he frowned wrathfully.
Rent the cabin? you? Where's your
father and mother ? "
Paw he 's done died, an' maw she 's chill-
in', mos'ly. Whaw we live, down below on de
ribba, da 's a right sma't er chills. So I pro-
jected roun' some, an' I come against dat place
ob yourn, an' I reckoned I could make a right
peart gyardin dere, an' sell my craps to de
folks at Alton. I jes' natch'lly got to do some-
thing casee Solomon John he can't, 'ca'se he's


a little fella, an' he cries continooal, so dey 's
only me."
Here Clarissy Ann paused for breath.
Mr. Jones caught his breath, also, as this
startling plan was rapidly unfolded by the
small farmer, and he said: "Well, of all things
I ever heard, this is the 'beater'! A kid like
you farming or gardening!" And he laughed
at the idea--a silent, shaking laugh. "Very
good; you can have it for three dollars a

the mournful farmers in saying, "Sholy dere
nebba was a spring like dis befo'! "
Clarissy Ann was washing the supper things
when Mr. Jones called. Her mother was in
bed between the blankets, and Solomon John
was propped up in the armchair looking at the
tearful world outside, and trying to rival it,
while Clarissy Ann was making a cheerful clat-
ter with her dishes, and singing loudly, "You
humpbacked sinna, git out ob de wildaness!"



month. But mind, now, I want my money
regularly," he added, after a while.
"Yessah; yes, indeedy. It'll be paid ef de
craps tu'ns out well; an' ef dey don't, I '11 wuk
fo' you all till it is paid."
And Clarissy Ann's errand being done, she
walked to the door with much dignity.
That afternoon they moved their possessions,
from a wagon drawn by a sad-faced mule, into
the cabin; and that night the rains began and
continued persistently. So Clarissy Ann joined

by way of cheering up Solomon John, when
Mr. Jones knocked.
When Clarissy Ann opened the door and
saw who was there, her heart went down con-
siderably; but she shut the door carefully, so
her mother should n't hear, and went outside.
"Well," said Mr. Jones, regarding the down-
cast face curiously, and with a twinkle in his
eye that his little tenant did not see, I sup-
pose you know it 's rent-day."
"Yessah," she said, with a feeble attempt



at a smile; "but it 's b'en de cu'iousest weatha
dat I ebba see, an' I ain't had a chayance to
make a smitch of a gyardin. So I ain't got it,
jes' to-day. I 's pow'ful sorry."
"How do you suppose I 'm to live if I let
this postponing go on ?" asked Mr. Jones
sternly. Now, be sure and get it next time,
or we '11 have trouble."
So saying, he walked off, silently shaking, so
that Clarissy Ann took a feeble comfort in the
thought that he, too, was chillin' "; and then
she went and knocked her head three times
against the side of the cabin, as was her fash-
ion when troubles came very fast indeed. It
seemed to help her in some way.
That night, when the vocal powers of Solo-
mon John were hushed in sleep in his mother's
arms, Clarissy Ann, from her pallet on the floor,
dreamed that she was in a leaky boat, floating
gently off to a land where there were no land-
lords, no failures of crops, no chills, nor weeping
Then she suddenly opened her eyes. "De
laws a gracious! we 's floated off into de ribba !"
she cried out; for there were three inches of
water on the floor, and it was steadily rising.
Clarissy Ann flew to the bed, and shook her
sleeping mother by the arm. But she was
heavy with fever and sleep, and only moaned,
refusing to wake. Whereat Clarissy Ann's long-
taxed courage departed, and, sitting on the
edge of the bed, she cried bitterly.
Ef I had a boat, I could do somefin'! she
thought, and wild visions of taking to the wash-
tub, with the broom and mop for oars, floated
through her mind. But all at once she heard
something softly bumping against the cabin door.
She cautiously opened it, and there -oh, the
joy of it was a fine new rowboat, which she
at once recognized as belonging to her nearest
neighbor, and landlord, Mr. Jones.
Clarissy Ann now felt perfectly safe, for she
knew all about boats. So she went again to her
mother's side, and tried to arouse her; but again
she failed.
"I 's got to go an' git someone hea to he'p
me," she said finally; so, taking Solomon John,
who, rolled up in a blanket, was still sleeping,
she stepped into the boat and started rowing
with all her might toward Mr. Jones's house, as

nearly as she could tell the direction through the
great spread of waters.
"Dah ain't no lan' nowha!" she said, peer-
ing through the darkness, in a vain attempt to
get her bearings.
Presently, over the sound of the rushing wa-
ters, she heard a cry, and she turned and rowed
in its direction, sending out an answering call of
her own.
The signal of distress proved to be from Mr.
Jones himself, who -was sitting on top of the
pump in his own yard while everything that
could float was floating; for the water was
De law sakes said Clarissy Ann when she
found this out; and then in spite of her anxiety
she leaned on her oars, and laughed a long si-
lent laugh of pure enjoyment.
"Who's there ? queried Mr. Jones, peering
anxiously forward.
You' tenant, sah," replied Clarissy Ann, with
fitting dignity.
"What on earth are you doing there? Whose
boat have you got? -and can you help me
down from this thing ? "
"I ain't doin' nuffin' special jes' now, 'cept
takin' a boat ride wid Solomon John," she an-
swered airily, an' it 's a boat dat come floatin'
up at precisely de right time to keep we-all from
drownin' plumb. I reckon I kin he'p you ef
you'grees to a few things."
What are they ? inquired Mr. Jones grimly.
"You have me where I 'm liable to 'gree to
most everything!"
You remember when I rented you-all's place,
I said I 'd pay prompt ef de craps was good.
Well, dey wa' n't; an' you-all knowed it; but you
come a pesterin' roun', nebba waiting' wid de
leastest smitch ob Christian patience. Now, I 'd
like you to 'gree in the futua to be the leas'
mite mo' patienter."
No answer for a minute, but the top of the
pump was hard and slippery; so presently the
landlord said in a queer, suppressed voice, You
can live there forever without paying a cent if
you '11 take me off from this pegtop."
"Does you promise that by de Gre't Ho'n
Spoon?" asked Clarissy Ann, her teeth and
eyes gleaming in the darkness.
Yes, and by the bones of my ancestors; and




if the cabin floats off, you can come -you all,
that is, and do my housework, and stay in
the big house."
With skilful hand Clarissy Ann shot the boat
under the pump-handle. Down this slender
bridge Mr Jones, thankful that the darkness hid
the spectacle, managed to slide. He landed
with a jar that awoke Solomon John, who im-
mediately, after one peaceful moment of sur-
prise, rent the air with his cries.
Back to the cabin they went, and on the way
Clarissy Ann heard how Mr. Jones, fearing the
flood, had that night moored his boat in the
barnyard. Later, going out to find it, he had
wandered around bewildered until he had been
forced to climb up on the pump to escape the
rapidly rising waters. The boat; becoming in
some way untied, must have floated off.
The water was half-way up the cabin walls
when they reached it; and on the roof, forget-
ting chills and everything else but fear, sat the
mother, rocking to and fro, and convinced that
the day of judgment had come, or at least that
her children were lost to her forever.
They got her down with difficulty, and the
added burden made the task of rowing any-

thing but easy; while Mr. Jones, having in some
way sprained his wrist, could give little or no
assistance to the brave little oarswoman. It
seemed a long, long way to where the lights,
dancing about, showed the city of Alton, but
they reached there at last, and poor Clarissy
Ann, for the first and last time in her life, fainted
It was many weeks before they could live in
the great house for the cabin was completely
wrecked; but when they did go, the rest, and
proper food and clothing, soon made them all
right again; and they took care of Mr. Jones
and his house in such an admirable way that he
many times congratulated himself on the good
fortune the flood had brought him.
As for Solomon John, that dreadful night of
the flood he cut his eye-teeth, and, after that,
ceased his vocal efforts somewhat, though still
an infant of a gloomy turn of mind.
Clarissy Ann's "craps" after that were so
good, and life altogether so much pleasanter
and easier, that she used to say," I 's plumb
thankful to dat flood, fo' sence den ebbry
single ting, eben Mistah Jones hese'f, is cured
plumb up!"



THERE is music in the orchard,
There is sunlight on the hill
Where the bees are making honey,
Though the winter lingers still;
For the blossoms in the valley
- Catch the living breath of spring,
And the robins 'mid the branches
Build their cozy nests, and sing.

Oh, the ice has left the valley!
And the brooklet from the hill
Wakes the busy world to duty
With the rumble of the mill;
There the noisy kine, a-lowing,
To the distant pastures pass,
For they know the coming summer
In the odor of the grass.

Little boys with naked ankles
Patter in the muddy pools;
Little girls without their bonnets
Playing hookeyy" from the schools;
While the plowman turns the furrow
Far across the steaming field,
Making ready for the harvest
That the glowing sun will yield.

Out among the peeping chickens
Frisk the lambkins in their play,
While the buttercups and daisies
Make the Mother's garden gay.
And the children in their gladness
Never mind "Jack Frost's" alarm;
They are sure the winter 's over -
Spring has come across the farm.








PETER and Patty ran away,
Out of the Box, one summer day,
And mother tells us every night
About their wand'rings and awful fright.


They rode and rode, all the afternoon,
But somehow it got to be night quite soon.
And here they were under a great, dark tree,
And were, oh! so hungry without their tea.

Then they climbed the tree to be out of sight
Of bears and creatures that prowl by night.
There, perched onabranch, sat anamiableowl,

Who thought them a kind of harmless
He rolled his eyes like balls of light,
And politely passed the time of night.


And when it grew daylight, the owl flew
With a queer sort of look on his counte-
nance gray.
He 'd been thinking all night of the whys
and the whether,
And he could n't decide what they'd done
with their feathers.


__ ~11_1__




They climbed to the ground, and were so
stiff and sore
That they vowed they would never leave
home any more.

Then they saw a small bowwow come out
of the wood.
He was wagging his tail, and looked friendly
and good,
And they cried, Little Doggie, we two
ran away
From the Paper-Doll Box,just to run and play,
And now we have lost our track,-
Do help us to find our way back!
There are none so sad and unhappy as we,
For we perched all night on the limb of
a tree."

The Little Dog answered, "I do not know
The Paper-Doll Box, or the way to go.
But I know some people not far from here-
Mrs. Noah and her children dear.
The Paper-Doll Box they must have found,
For in their ark they have sailed all 'round.

So he led the way, and they trotted behind;
And they thought he was most polite and kind.
When they came near the house of Mrs.
They could hear the lions and tigers roar,
And their knees began to shake with fear
At thought of animals fierce and queer.

But the Little Dog said, "There 's no cause
for alarm;
They are just little pets that they keep on
the farm."

The house was the color of summer seas,
And stood in a grove of Christmas-trees.
A great brass knocker was on the door,
And a beautiful garden stretched out before;
Behind the house was a nice large park
For all the creatures that went in the Ark.

The Noahs were standing on top of the hill,
Watching them come as country folks will;
And the Little Dog introduced them all
With a beautiful bow he had learned for a ball.

/ /





The Noahs were so cordial, and kind as The way was all briers, and brooks, and
you please stones,
Though they never can bow 'cause they 're They hurt their shins, and they banged their
stiff in their knees, bones.
And they don't take their hats off even in
bed, The Little Dog trotted on ahead,
Because each one is glued tight to the head. And they followed slowly, feet like lead.


They took the paper dolls
straight to their hearts,
And fed them on cream and
Banbury tarts.
Then Mr. Noah said, "Of
course we know
The Paper-Doll Box, and how to go;
But children who run away from home
Can never get back the way they have
You will have to travel o'er ditch and dale,
Until you come to the Great Water Pail.
And there is a skiff in which you can float,
Just as we did in our big house-boat."

They gave them a parcel of sandwiches,
All made of crackers and old green cheese;
And though the day was remarkably fair,
An old umbrella' that belonged to the bear.

They walked for a week by day and night
Before the Water Pail came in sight;
And there was the boat so stanch and trim,
All painted gold with a silver rim.

The dog was ballast, and Patty was crew,
And Peter was captain, and cargo, too.

The sun was warm, and the sky was blue,
The little birds over the water flew;
The boat drifted on in the happiest style,
And the dog regained his cheerful smile,
And Patty fished
in the end of
the boat,
While Peter sang
in a dulcet note: TWO FISHES.

"There's no place in all the world like home,-
The Paper-Doll Box is the place for me.





The land is all very well, I 'm sure,
And so, indeed, is the sea.
But there 's nothing like the Paper-Doll
In all the world to me!"

But then he stopped singing the boat had
a shock,
And gently turned over upon a rock.
Down to the depths of the sea went the
The two little dolls and the dog were afloat;
They raised their hands, and shouted for
help -
The Little Dog set up a terrible yelp -
But no one was near not even a bird,
And the shore was so far that no one heard.

Then the Little Dog said, Cling on to my
And I '11 use the umbrella' by way of a sail.
Don't mind if your feet are a little wet,
Somehow or other we '11 get home yet."
The Little Doggie was stanch and brave,
He struck right out at a great high wave.

He swam till he ached, and was stiff and
But he landed the Paper Dolls safe on

They were, oh! such pictures of despair!
The ink had run in their eyes and hair;
Their clothes were nearly washed away,
And they 'd been quite new that very day.
They had such a funny, watered look
That they had to be pressed in a heavy
And then in the morning, with ink and pen,
We made them like their old selves again.
And you can believe that, since that day,
They have never wanted to run away,
For they 're always singing a little song,
Over and over all day long:

"There's no place in all the world like home,-
The Paper-Doll Box is the place for me!
The land is all very well, I 'm sure,
And so, indeed, is the sea.
But there's nothing like the Paper-Doll Box
In all the world to me!"







The territory of Alaska '" -
Is seven times larger than Nebraska.

As Russian America it was known,
Until we bought it for our own.

This land and Asia may be seen
With six and thirty miles between.

Icebergs and glaciers here abound,
And islands where the seal is found. "'

Through eighteen hundred miles or moreggi
The Yukon runs to reach the shore. -- u

- The Chilcat brown and Eskimo -'
Along the waters come and go. 111

*. O'er mountain-ranges bleak and cold.--
S The miners climb in search of gold.
,- 7 -:,,

VOL. XXIII.- 88.

ii j--4

(SEE PAGE 701.)






THE Fairy Godmother Puzzle has proved a great success. Difficult as it was to solve, hundreds of ST. NICHOLAS
boys and girls all over the country attacked it bravely, and as a result there were received about a thousand very
creditable sets of answers.
Lois Dowling, of Rochester, N. Y., wins the first prize (Ten Dollars), with a record of thirty-seven out of a
possible thirty-eight correct answers.
To Gertruda Vroom is awarded the second prize (Nine Dollars), for thirty-six correct answers and general
George Beers King takes the third prize (Eight Dollars), Marjorie Byrne the fourth (Seven Dollars), and
Mary Conwell the fifth (Six Dollars).
The five five-dollar prizes are awarded to Francis Gifford, Katharine Repplier, Mildred Bennett, Anthony
Hunt, and Helen French.
The ten three-dollar prizes go to: Ethel York, Clevia Wheeler, Gertrude Vaile, Chester Lane, Grace Norton,
Isabel Pontefract, Norman Connor, Lucretia De Schweinitz, Richard Northrup, and Junius Brown.
The fifteen one-dollar prizes are awarded to: Harriet Moss, Ellen Townsend, William C. Mann, Elizabeth Sar-
gent, Helen Holbrook, Eloise Runyon, Lewis Tooker, Bess Kelly, Edward Lyon, Estelle Coleman, Pauline
Mackay, Elsie Marshall, Albert Crocker, Rosamond Alien, and Margaret Griswold.


I. Telemachus, son of Ulysses.
2. Stephen of Cloyes, the boy-preacher of the Chil-
dren's Crusade, 1212 A. D.
3. Chesterfield (" Charge, Chester, charge "- Mar-
4. Florence Nightingale (See" Santa Filomena," by
5. "Master Betty." William Henry West Betty, who
made his debut in London in 1803.
6. Pandora's Box, which held many troubles and the
one precious gift -" Hope."
7. The twelve Proverbs that rhyme in six couplets :

All roads lead to Rome.
The longest way round is the shortest way home.

The more haste the less speed.
A friend in need is a friend indeed.

Turn about is fair play.
Every dog has his day.

Fast bind, fast find.
As the twig is bent, the tree 's inclined.

Rome was not built in a day.
Where there 's a will there 's a way.

Well begun is half done.
Two heads are better than one.

8. The horse-hair that supported the sword hung
over the head of Damocles by the tyrant Dionysius of

9. Maximinus theThracian, Emperor of Rome,A.D. 235.
o1. The Planta Genista, or broom-plant, from which
is derived Plantagenet." Geoffrey, Prince of Anjou,
was surnamed Plantagenet because he wore in his bon-
net a sprig of flowering broom, plante d gent. From
him sprang the long line of Plantagenet kings, who ruled
England for centuries.
1I. Bucephalus (bull-headed), the favorite horse of
Alexander the Great, was shod with gold.
12. The Rosetta Stone.
13. Elixir of Life a ruby stone sometimes called the
Philosopher's Stone.
14. Solon, Thales, Pittacus, Bias, Chilon or Chilo,
Cleobulus, Periander.
15. Arachne, the weaver whom Minerva changed to a
16. Penelope, who at night unraveled her day's weav-
ing in order to gain time for Ulysses to arrive (Ho-
mer's Odyssey).
17. Said of Cassius in Shakspere's Julius Caesar,"
Act I, Scene 2.
18. Said of "Hamlet," in Shakspere's Hamlet,"
Act 5, Scene 2.
19. The toad, referred to in Shakspere's "As You
Like It," Act 2, Scene I.
20. Shakspere's "Macbeth," Act 5, Scene j.
21. Milton's Paradise Lost," line 302.
22. Houseleek-is known as "Jupiter's Beard."
23. Thin strips of orange peel or walnut skin.
24. Hero of Edmond About's "L'Homme a 1'Oreille
25. Goetz von Berlichingen "- Goethe.
26. Herod, the murderer of the Innocents.



27. "Sweet Alice "-in the song "Ben Bolt." 32. "Bluebeard."
28. Bishop Hatto--who met his death in the Mouse 33. Pope.
tower of the Rhine. 34. Hood.
29. The Flying Dutchman Vanderdecken's ship. 35. Early (The late General Early).
30. "The Pied Piper of Hamelin Browning. 36. The Lorelei.
31. "The Marchioness in Dickens's Old Curiosity 37. Mandrake (man -drake).
Shop." 38. The Sentinel of Pompeii.

Many correspondents gave Nicholas of Cologne as the answer to the second question, and this was admitted as
correct. Nicholas preached the Children's Crusade in Germany during the time Stephen of Cloyes was preaching
it in France. (See article, "The Children's Crusade," printed in ST. NICHOLAS in January, 1875.)
Number 4 was sometimes given as Santa Filomena," whereas the question plainly required a more explicit
Numbers 5, 9, 26, 28, 31, and 37 were taken too seriously by the majority of puzzle-solvers.
The "flower of the sun was supposed to endow with long life, happiness, and prosperity all on whom it shone.
Although our readers were specially requested to give short accurate answers to each question, many of
them sent in manuscripts almost as long as the puzzle itself. It would be well for them to note the conciseness
of the printed answers to the puzzle.
The writing and spelling were in a few cases so careless as to deprive the writer of a place on the Honor roll,
but, generally speaking, the work- especially of the very young people- proved very creditable.


Otho Kean, Isabel McCurdy, Margaret Horsfield, Jack Armstrong, Olive Dame, Elsie Keppler, Hubert Merry-
weather, M. Bell Dunnington, May Dougan, Francis M. Loud, Lewis R. Graham, Reta M. Dowie, Albert P.
Benners, Beatrice Lodge, Katharine Chambers, Mabel Hancock, Edith Lindsay, Sadie Frantz, Katharine Campbell,
Sara Fitz, Harold Brynner, Lucy C. Carr, Phebe Luther, Mary Guest Smith, Lawrence Generelly, Sigourney Nin-
ninger, Evelyn Swain, Charlotte Brewster, Marion Foster, Minnie Hart, Minnie Naetling, Arthur Stott, Jr., Eleanor
Monroe, Janet Pease, Christine Saunders, Abbie Newton, Bessie Ellsbree, Helen Lodge, Eleanor Allen, Joseph
Eastman, Cora Stanton, Mary Coggeshall, Robert Gibson, Clara Gardiner, Amy Einstein, Mary Blakey, Fanny
Dougherty, Katharine Portman and Grace O'Rourke, Marian Homans, Mary Geisler, Helen McLean, Frances Lee,
James Hassler, Helen Moody, Henrietta Drury, Appleton Nutter, Eleanor Cook, Constance Knower, Georgie
Leake, Elizabeth Randolph, Duncan Elliot, Selden Noyes, Emma Pratt, Hamilton Bradshaw, Charlotte Prime,
Nathaniel Hill, Joseph Swain, Alice Wood, Helen Carman, John S. Burke, Margaret Lantry, Ruth Whitney, Au-
drie La Villebeuvre, Wyllie Hart, Louise Hart, Juliet Adee, Laura Armstrong, Marguerite Barnes, Kendrick Wil-
son, Jr., Julia Morse, Elsie Pond, Stephen Douglass, Georgia Kendall, Harriet Johnson, Ernest Davies, Sue
Leonard, Elizabeth Bates, Bertha Hill, Ada Darby, Clara Anthony, Mary Carolyn Smith, Hubert Webb, Annette
Young, George Sicard, Clinton Burns, Kathryn White, Grace Young, Margaret King, Henry Colgan, P. S. Freret,
Louise Banks, Alden Griffin, Clara Oliver, Helen Young, Hubert Lewis, George W. Lount, Charles Stevenson,
Helen Home, Elise Marstelles, Joan Rawle, Bridget K. Smith, Florence Goldschmidt, Arthur Brown, Alice Wild,
Frances Moore, Paul Jones, Helen Ford, Helen Bagley, Ella P. Huey, Francis Hammorid, Olive Young, Logan
Clendenning, Walter Howard, Laura Kennish, Constance Miles, Charles Doak, Linda Dows, Olive Geer, Marian
Dorr, Ethel Atherstone, Kenneth Robinson, Grace Atkin, Clarence King; Margaret Telford, Elsie Lyle, Mary
Kirkbride, Harold Foster, Mary Biller, Helen Van Ingen, Edith Van Ingen, Margaret March, Willie Nichols,
Marjorie Hughson, Elizabeth Jackson, K. C. Hodge, Caroline Piers, Gertrude Hill, Margherita Sargent, Towner
Webster, Hilda White, Grace Gregory, Erle Meredith, Fanny Norris, Mabel Goodman, Sarah Sanborn, Edwin
Haines, Elfrida de Renne, Alice Dyer, Genevieve Butler, Graham Stewart, Angela Terrara, Olive Walters, Edith
Walters, Madeleine Murtha, Gertrude Jewett, Ellen B. Rice, Mildred Woolworth, Mary Dean, Harold Washburn,
Inez Fox, Josephine Tryon, Cicely Leach, Annie Champlin, Henry Stevens, Albert Dickerman, Wellington Scott,
Clifford Clark, Anna Curtis, Ella McElvin, Maud Ashurst.
Laura Hibbs, Francis Shields, Annette Roseshine, Louis F. Moody, Virginia Bartlett, Katherine Frost, Haw-
ley Cook, Upton Sinclair, Jr., Beatrice De Coppet, Gertrude De Coppet, Edward Rich, America Moore, Alice
Mongin, Bertha Schefer, Helen Ingham, Parker Filmore, Effie Fortune, Ralph Lowry, Anna Jungman, Martha
Foster, Louise Grove, Maria Snowden, C. F. Collis, Sophia Stearer, Florence Smith, Edith Spencer, Edith Preble,
E. Stewart, Henry Guy Carleton, Selma Schricker.
Elizabeth Higgins, Mary A. Barber, Edwina Abbot, May Logbon, Ned Butler, Katharine Creedon, Emilie Scoul-
lar, Ruth Lawrence, Margaret Lunt, Emily Dinwiddie, Katharine McCormack, Louise Dargon, Mitchell Wilby, Elise
Ilfeld, Janet Sherman, Stanley Wilson, Grace Merry, Nellie Morris, Florence Payne, Anna Barnard, Hanna Adair,
Beth Harrington, J. M. Semmes, A. S. Graham, Chauncey Driscol, Grace Kitt, Frances Nelson, Victor Garrett.
Lena Miller, Philip Tomas, Nora Stillwell, Dorothy Brooke, Emma Cobb, Philip Alexander, Rachel Mosse,
Leila O'Neill, Helena Nye, Elizabeth Bleecher, Henry Emerson, Mary Merrill, Allein Guiteau, C. K. Van Horn,


Phelps Tyler, Mary Spencer, Nora Matnard, Simon Stern, Eileen Mitchell, Eugene Wilkerson, John C. Black,
Mark Schriver, Harold Baylis, Alexander Guild, Raymond Barker, B. H. Bailot.
Emma Long, Alice Kendall, Grace Matthews, Harriett Walsh, Lawrence Campbell, Isabel Noble, Florence
Sullivan, Evelyn Jackson, Carl Birkenbine, Estelle Hunt, Bertha Earll, Alice Graham, Mabel Haddock, Charles
Woods, Clara Margedank, M. Z. Bain, Arria Griffith, Augustus Soule, Blanche Kelly.
Clara Gillett, Helen Taylor, Elizabeth Barber, C. R. George, Cleveland Palmer, Frank Ruppert, Oscar Ives,
Lillian Donvan, Edith D'Orville, Fred Brown, F. L. Humphrey, Mary Giles, Mabel Maycomb, Louise Trimble.
Margery Hoyes, Laura Henderson, Elsie Murray, Agnes Dean, Bertha Martin, Jessie Henry, Bertha Goding,
Elsa Tamsen, F. H. Sutton, Grace Medes, Virginia Dorsey, Katherine McDonald, Sallie Powers, Natalie Preston,
T. O. Metcalf, Clare McClure, Minnie Flack, Philip Newton, Caroline Goodman, Edith Ishan, Ellen Alden, Nellie
Edwards, Jennie Thomas, Anna Conner, Geo. Stevenson, Mary Dunbar, Margaret Bailey, Elbert Smith, Jr., Henry
Hathaway, Emily Colquhaun, Muriel Phillips, William Le Baird, J. Clay, George Harris, Elizabeth Ward, Elsie
Bethune, Esther Tabor, Gertrude Lane, James Burleigh, Annie Mayo, Jerome Chambers, Helen Russell, May Sa-
mok, Charles Crosley, Worthington Bonner, Helen Kinch, Clara Greuning, Frieda Hermann, Miriam Johnson,
Ruth Nichols, Rosalie Jones, Marguerite Frechette.
Maud Otto, Burns Thompson, Lillian Bang, Adele Carroll, Marion Calvin, John Welsh, Anna Waller, William
Costello, Charlotte Thayer, Laura Ryan, Elizabeth Pratt, Jeanette Baum, Grace Patterson, Sophia Moeller, Mary
Johnson, Mary Fisk, Stanley Roetlinger, Edward Lond, Caroline Baldwin, Lillian Davis, Elizabeth Briden, Emily
Van Cott, Helen Weman, Fred Sultzbach, Bonnie Kellogg, Louise Berry, Henrietta King, Raymond Hill, Dora
Lee, Phcebe Morgan, Marguerite Sutherland, Graham Woodward, Rebecca Drake.


May Barry, William White, Mary Henking, Roger Huntington, Josephine Wilson, Benjamin Day, Jr., Henry
Sargent, Sallie Barber, Katheryne Van Sycle, Hilda Hibbler, Florence Rice, Allen Van Eps, Nancy Burgurman,
Seth Reed, Anna Oathout, Henry Fish, Augustus Soule, Clarence Kearfortt, Winsor Soule, Nora Wilkins, Sher-
man Winslow, Jane Parks, Bernardine Barnett, Mary Carolan, Ernest Manning, Roy Bradshaw, Louis Breckon,
Ruth Vinning, Ruth Palmer, Hugh Morgan, Hattie Boynton, Rose Brenner, Bessie Buell, Pauline Curran, Law-
rence Hall, Maud Ringold, Carrie George, Maud Leake, Agnes Edwards, Maggie Brown, Ellen Barras, Hubert
Quinn, Jessie Hewth, Edna Hill, Alexander Pratt, Ernest Barnes, Hazel Brown, Catharine Roads, Harry Haile,
Helen Weiman, Helen Baine, Edith Crish, Faith Lyman, Orison H. Smith, Margery White, Harold Cadmus,
Edith Alter, Lucille Lawton, Margaret Long, Virginia Verplanck, Emma Schwenck, Fanchon Borie.


The English Prizes are awarded as follows: One prize, C2 sterling, to Margery Darbyshire.
Three prizes, one guinea each, to Dorothy Brown, Enid Brown, and Marion E. Paris.
Ten prizes, of a half-sovereign each, to Dorothy E. Silk, Cordelia Pease, Amelia Daisy Bate, Louisa Brown,
Marion Dunlop, Dorothea Pease, Margaret I. Dunlop, Dorothea Faraday, Mary Beaumont, Avis T. Hikking.


Sylvia Milman, Marie Bradley, Nora E. Fisher, Mabel Allwork, Dorothy Firth, Dorothy Ross, Marjorie E.
Mather, Helen Mead, Celia de Zouche, Katie Leitch, Barbara Drummond, Margaret and Alethea Awdry, and Mary



IN the page of "The Rhymes of the States" that
contains the rhyme "Alaska," the artist has introduced
careful studies of the "totem poles" that stand at the
doorways of the Thlinkit Indians' houses, and of the
masks used in their dances. The poles are so carved
that they tell to one skilled in reading them the family
and personal history of their owners. The bow of an
Indian boat is shown also, copied from the real boat in
the New York Museum of Natural History.

A LITTLE boy surprised his papa with the following
question, which contains food for reflection:
If three boys who don't know very much say a thing
is so, and one boy who knows a good deal says it is not
so, which would you believe? "

We print this letter from a little French reader just as
it was received:
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl of thirteen
years old. I am a french girl, but my governess is
American, and tells me of that interesting country. I
walk in the Bois de Boulogne every day with my gover-
ness and my little sister Rosette. She will have five
years next June. I have a black caniche who I love.
His name is William after an american gentleman that
Maman knows. Maman and I think it is a very original
name but my governess says it is a little ordinary in
america. Please pardon my english if you find many
faults. As I have never seen a letter from a french girl
in your magazine I hope you will print this one.
With many compliments your little french friend,

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I composed this little poem es-
pecially for your Letter-box.
Your admiring reader, ALICE E--.

A GENTLEMAN asked Johnny
If he had ever seen ST. NICK;
And Johnny said, "Yes, sir,"
And he said it very quick.
"I have seen him-let me see!-
Twelve times this very year."
"How is that? said the gentleman.
Said John, "'T is very clear."
Then, walking to the bookcase,
He took down a volume new.
What was it ?
Why, ST. NICHOLAS, 't was you.
ALICE E-- (aged fourteen).

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We have often wanted to write
you, but somehow we never seemed to have anything
real interesting to tell you.

Now we have, and it 's about a bird. We were stay-
ing at a farm-house at Greenwood Lake. The farmer
had a very large cat who hunted birds and squirrels. One
day he brought a little phoebe-bird and dropped it at our
mother's feet, purring, and arching his back to be petted,
as if he thought he had done a brave and noble deed.
We took the poor little bird, who was not hurt a bit,
up to our room, where we kept him all day until sunset,
when we brought him down on the piazza to see if he
could fly.
He hopped about, and fluttered his wings, and was so
cunning we hoped we could keep him always. Pretty
soon he began to peep or chirp, and we heard an an-
swering chirp from a tree in front of the piazza. Then
our bird peeped again and again, and the bird in the tree
always answered. Presently down it flew beside our
bird on the piazza, and was off again like a flash, back
again, and off, several times. Mama said it must be the
mother-bird; so we put baby-bird on top of a tall gate-post,
and the mother-bird flew right down beside it, rested a mo-
ment, and then flew away, and was gone several minutes.
When she came back she had a worm in her bill for baby-
bird, who promptly opened his mouth and swallowed it.
The mother kept on feeding the little bird for a while,
and then coaxed it to fly away with her. We were so
pleased for the baby-bird to find its mother again that
we forgot to be sorry about losing our phcebe.
We like ST. NICHOLAS more than we can tell.
Your true friends, CALVERT AND ARTHUR.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am eleven years old, and have
been sick nearly all my life, and have traveled a great
deal for my health. I have been all the way from Maine
to California, and also to Mexico. We have a very nice
home here, of about one acre, and it is full of fruit-trees;
and in the summer it is so green and pretty.
I was born in the mountains of Colorado, where the
snow was very deep, so that the surface of the snow was
level with the porch roof. I was born in March, and in
April I had to go to Denver, so there had to be a road
dug through the snow, ten feet deep, to let the sleigh
come up to the door to take me to the station, one mile
My papa was the superintendent of a large coal-mine
there. In January there was a great explosion in the
mine that killed many men. My mama has often told
me of what a dreadful time it was.
Your faithful reader, HUGH B. R-

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am twelve years old; I live
on Coronado Beach.
I have always wanted to write a letter to you, and at
last I am going to do it, and in it I am going to tell you
about our Christmas Cabin" that we had last winter
instead of a tree.
It was a frame. In the middle it was seven feet high,
and it sloped down to about four feet. It was covered
with white cloth. It had a pole with a flag on it in front,
and strings of popcorn and ribbons draped from the pole
to the back of the cabin.
I forgot to say that it was built in front of the fire-


place, so that we hung our stockings up just the same,
only they were inside the cabin.
The cabin was decorated with pepper branches. The
leaves are something like a coarse fern, with big clusters
of red berries on them. Then there were cornucopias
pinned all over it, and we gave one to each one that came
to see the cabin.
I want to tell you what my little brother Edwin said,
three years old. When mama and papa were fixing the
cabin Christmas eve, he thought it was very nice, and
then he said: "We must put a.little table in the cabin,
and put some lunch on it for Santa Claus, because he will
be hungry."
And papa asked him what we should put on the table,
and he said, "A glass of milk and some cookies "; so
papa did it, and after Edwin went to bed papa drank the
milk and ate the cookies.
In the morning Edwin saw the table and the glass, but
no milk, and the plate and three small pieces of cookies ;
and he said," Santa Claus will have to come back and eat
the rest of the cookies."
Mama thinks that this is quite long enough, so I must
stop. Your devoted reader, ANNA M. S- .

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: For a long time a friend has
been sending us the ST. NICHOLAS; but when the Amer-
ican mail came, behold! there you were, a Christmas
present from my papa, and I was very happy to meet
you. Now I hope you will come every time, and I will
pay you by telling you stories about Japan. This time
I will tell you about a procession.
One day a procession (matsure) went along the street.
First came a lot of boys each dressed in a drab-blue suit
made to imitate a mouse. Then came a cart which was
drawn by the boys, and which had on it a pine-tree
covered with money made from gold and silver paper, in
imitation of the old-time money. In the cart were a lot
of men beating drums and playing fifes. Then followed
men that had circulars to give to the people. These were
followed by men carrying banners with something written
on them in Japanese. On the top of the cart sat a man
beside a pile of boxes with a slit in the top; he would
hand these out to the people. Now what could all this
fuss mean? Why, the opening of a bank! You would
say this was a very queer thing, but you stay here a year
and you would see many more queer things. Good-by.
Your friend and faithful reader,

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little French girl, eleven
years old. I have a sister two years younger than I;
she is called Suzan. We live in a castle near Tours; it
is called La Borde.
I have a pet Swiss cow named Schwitz. It comes to
me when I call it, and it eats in my hand, but it is not
very mild with the other persons.
Mama has a very big dog named Cora: it is the nicest
beast you can imagine. It is so intelligent, so faithful,
it understands everything one says to it. It is a Danish
dog, so you see it is a very large one. It barks when
strangers intrude, but would not bite them. Suzan also
has a pet dog. It is a pretty collie, black and yellow,
named Scan; it is not so intelligent as Cora.
I have a garden. I work in it very often and I like it
very much. It is not a large one, but I asked papa's per-
mission to have it enlarged, and he consented to do so
for me. Every year I plant pretty seeds; I like so much
to see them grow and to make pretty nosegays for mo-
ther when they are in bloom. Yesterday I took some
ferns to put in it, but I do not think they will grow as

well as in the park. I have an apple-tree in the middle
of my garden; it gave me about twenty large apples last
autumn. I ate them with Suzan.
I should like very much to see my letter printed in
your journal. Believe me, dear ST. NICHOLAS,
Your fond reader, GENEVIEVE A- .

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: This is now the fifth year that
I have taken you.
My sister and I are very fond of horses. We raise
hackneys, three of which we are breaking in this year.
namely: Lady Random," "Dr. Jim," and "Thunder-
bolt." We have a pony each; my sister's is called
"Marquis," and mine "Prince Charlie." We have
twenty horses altogether; we have no hunting here, al-
though there used to be some.
We have three collies and two retrievers. One of the
collies is mine; I call her "Lassie." My sister and I
have four doves, which are very tame. They are kept in
a cage in winter and fly about out of doors in summer.
Twice a year we all go to Glen-Isla, a place eighteen
miles from here; we like climbing the hills very much.
Mount Blair, which is 2440 feet, is in front of our house.
I have been up it five times. Not far from the house we
have a loch, with Loch Leven trout in it. The largest
trout caught in it weighed five pounds.
Your interested reader, ETHEL 0. K- .

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My little fox-terrier, "Feath-
er is very cunning, and, we think, very clever. Last
summer he used to disappear every evening, just at dark.
One day we found him down near the ranch-house play-
ing with a little ground-owl. Feather would run after
the owl, and the owl would fly over his head from the
fence-post on which it had been perched. They would
do this again and again, and play together for a long
I am a little girl eight years old and live on a beautiful
ranch. The house has wide piazzas. On one side we
can see the mountains, and on the other Catalina Island.
I have taken ST. NICHOLAS as long as I can remem-
ber. HELEN S. E- .

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little Scotch girl,
though we always spend the winter here in New Brigh-
ton. We are near the river Mersey, and we can see all
the large vessels that pass us. We always spend our
summer holidays in our house in Dumfriesshire,near Mof-
fat. I have a pony there of which I am very fond. I
call him "Prince Charlie."
I must tell you about my goldfish. I have four very
pretty ones. Their basin stands about four feet from
the ground. One day a friend of mine on entering the
room found one of them lying on the floor. It had
jumped right out. She quickly put it back in the water,
out of which they cannot live more than two minutes,
so it was a narrow escape for its life. I remain ever
your interested reader, FLORA GORDON S--.

WE have received pleasant letters from the young
friends whose names follow: Dudley J. Morton, H. B.
David Burnet, Alice Curran, Arthur E., Jessie Dey,
Emily M. Harrison, Ina M. Ufford, Nellie Dase, John
B., William Henry Miller, Alice Marguerite Law, Vin-
cent K. Newcomer, Mary W. Clark, Neva T., Frederica
White Eldredge, William R. Dart, Francis Cecilia Reed,
Phyllis H. Rosenthal, Mabel S. G.



QUADRUPLE SQUARES. I. z. Turn. 2. Unio. 3. Riot. 4.
Note. II. Tone. 2. Omer. 3. Nebo. 4. Eros. III. i.
Tone. 2. Over. 3. Nero. 4. Eros. IV. i. Tear. 2. Edda.
3. Adit. 4. Rate. From I to 3 and from z to 7, turnstone; 3 to 9,
and 7 to 9, erostrate; 2 to 8, and 4 to 6, sot.
CENTRAL ACROSTIC. Memorial Day. Cross-words: i. HyMen.
2. OrEad. 3. MoMus. 4. ObOle. 5. LaRes. 6. OrIon. 7.
ErAto. 8. PaLes. 9. HaDes. xo. DiAna. ir. DrYad.
DIAMOND. i. B. 2. Mad. 3. Mitre. 4. Battery. 5. Drear.
6. Err. 7. Y.- CHARADE. Mayflower.
ZIGZAG. "Dotheboys Hall." Cross-words: i. Drama. 2.
cOats. 3. enTer. 4. sigHs. 5. bravE. 6. barBs. 7. stOre. 8.
tYing. 9. Shoes. n1. sHarp. ix. thAne. 12. skiLl. 13. pearL.
SUBTRACTIONS. r. Ha-l-t. 2. D-roll. 3. Pear-I. 4. La-i-rd.
5. Bow-1. 6. M-aid. 7. D-earth. 8. M-ask.
biSon. 2. waTch. 3. moOse. 4. toWel. 5. shEll.
NOVEL ACROSTIC. Monroe. CROSS-woRDS: I. Redeem. 2.
Method. 3. Scents. 4. Lorded. 5. Rowing. 6. Ending.
HOUR-GLASS. Centrals, Dante. Cross-words: I. Elder. 2.
Tar. 3. N. 4. Ate. 5. Dream.

PI. Come to the woods, 0 Spring!
Touch the gray silence, smite the winter's gloom,
Till the dim aisles grow bright with sudden bloom,
And the fair arches ring.

Over the meadows pass,
Flinging the wealth of May buds, faintly sweet,
In shining garlands round the children's feet
Amid the springing grass.
GEOGRAHPICAL DISCOVERIES. i. Ca-Paris-on. 2. In-Cuba-te.
3. Se-Crete-d. 4. Des-Troy-er. 5. De-Man-d. 6. Ad-Jura-tion.
7. Ma-China-tion. 8. Cl-Andes-tine. 9. Pl-Ural-ity. zo. C-Lima-x.
ii. Mus-Quito-s.
NUMERICAL ACROSTIC. From i to 7, Model; 2 to 8, Mango; 3
to 9, Adieu; 4 to io, Hayti; 5 to n, Brass; 6 to 12, Diana; 12 to 18,
Andes; 13 to 19, Lotus; 14 to 20, Crane; 15 to 21, Olive; 16 to 22,
Train; x7 to 23, Trout; 7 to i2, Louisa; x2 to 17, Alcott.
OBLIQUE RECTANGLE. i. D. 2. Lea. 3. Deals. 4. Aloes. 5.
Sedan. 6. Sabot. 7. Nomad. 8. Tacit. 9. Dimes. io. Teams.
ii. Small. X2. Sleet. 13. Let 14. T.

To OUR PUZZLERS: Answers, to be acknowledged in the magazine, must be received not later than the Isth of each month, and should
be addressed to ST. NICHOLAS Riddle-Box," care of THE CENTURY CO., 33 East Seventeenth St., New York City.
ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE MARCH NUMBER were received, before March I5th, from Helen C. McCleary- M. McG. -
"Jaboo "- G. B. Dyer "Jersey Quartette "-" Dondy Small "- L. O. E.- Paul Reese W. L. Clive -" Edgewater Two "- Mar-
guerite Murch and Co. Sand Crabs "-" The Three Brownies "-Josephine Sherwood- Edward Arthur Lyon -"Ida"- Paul Row-
ley- Blanche and Fred Nessie and Freddie Merry and Co." Two Little Brothers W. L. and H. A.- Greta Simpson -Jo
and I-" The Brownie Band "- Kathlyn B. Stryker Grace Edith Thallon.
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE MARCH NUMBER were received, before March Isth, from Mollita B. Donohue, i -Annie E. Gregory,
a Louisa Barker, 3--Lawrence Gilboy, i Chas. V. Briggs, I Marian J. Homans, 8 Ethel Potter, i Lulu C. Shearman, i -
Chas. A. Greene, Mary K. Rake, 2 Warren Barton B., 2 Georgia Stipp, 3 -J. R. Cox, 2 Kearsarge," 4 -"The Grasshop-
pers," 5- Scott Nearing, 2- W. B. Kell, I Margaret A. Hobbs, -" Midget," i Mollie Spicer. 2 Kittie Corbitt, 3 Carl Fred,
4- Fred G. Rockwell, 6- Owen Thomas, I Kathryn Jordan, 5 W. Putnam, 5 -Belinda and Charly, 4- H. P. Sweeny, 2- Ray
Hmes, 5- Ralph W. Kiefer, i Bertha P., I- Helen M. Shriver, 4--" Girl from Maine," 2- Jessie Dey, 5 -J. O'Donohoe Rennie,
3 Tiddlewinks," 2 Gladys De Forrest, 2 Effie K. Talboys, 9- Carleton McDowell, i Spooks," 2 Hallock and Co., 3 -
Mary Anne Spencer, 2-- "Jane," 6 Emily Norris Vaux, I Caroline B., A. E. and H. G. E., 8 Albert P. Weymouth, 5 Alice
M. Law, I "Iron Mask," 4- Geo. S. Corlew and Aunt Pollie, 3-F. Goyeneche, 3 Alma L. Knapp, I- Amelia MacDonald, 2 -
Marion Duncan, i- Frederica Yeager, 8- Evelyn Walker, 3 Gertrude Klein, 5- Stirling Schroder, 3- Bessie Flett, 4- Elizabeth
Gundrum, 2- Van Neste and Franklin, 8- Frances D. Radford, 4- Helen Ford, 3- Mary H. and Ernest T. Rossiter, 7- Marguerite
Sturdy, 7- Addison Neil Clark and G. and M., ii-Laura M. Zinser, 8-" Teddy and Carrots," 3 -E. Everett, Jr., 2-Joseph D.
Zahm, 2 -" Embla," 9 -" Kilkenny Cats," ix Daniel Hardin, Jr., 4 Sigourney Fay Nininger, ir -Merrick Estabrook, 2- "Daugh-
ter of the Regiment," 4- Oskytel H. C, 2-Katharine Dunbar Parmly, o--Lucy and Eddie H., 4-" The Butterflies," o T. W.
Riker, 5- Bessie and Percy, 3- Chiddingstone," I Charles Carroll," 9 Clara A. Anthony, ii Truda Vroom, 6- "64," 7 -
S. Stankowitch, Jr., 6- M. J. Philbin, 4- Helen Lake, 5- C. W. Adams, 4- R. W. Murray, 3-" Princeton Tigers," 8-Bessie Pros-
ser, 7 E. C. C. E., 6- Olive Lupton, 9- Seth Evans Hodge, x- Odie Oliphant, ix.


I. A HIGHWAY. 2. Amasculine name. 3. A particle.
4. A large cupola. EMILY B. DUNNING.

BETWEEN your eyes
My first one lies.
Merry with glee
My second you '11 be.
Fragrant and sweet
Behold me complete.


I. BEHEAD to make shorter, and leave to span.
2. Behead a dialect pronunciation, and leave a knave.
3. Behead to extend, and leave every.
4. Behead at large, and leave wide.

5. Behead a mixture, and leave a tree.
6. Behead to degrade, and leave a foundation.
7. Behead a near relative, and leave opposite.
8. Behead a character in one of Shakspere's plays, and
leave part of the head.
9. Behead incensed, and leave a fixed allowance.
1o. Behead agreeable, and leave a kind of dessert.
II. Behead a coarse linen cloth, and leave foolhardy.
12. Behead formal speeches, and leave food.
13. Behead a mechanical power, and leave always.
14. Behead not any, and leave a unit.
The fourteen beheaded letters will spell the name of
a famous American.

MY PRIMALS and finals each name an American author.
CRoss-woRDs: I. To ply the whip. 2. A mascu-
line name. 3. Healthy. 4. A kind of cheese named
after a town of the Netherlands. 5. Tardy. 6.
Young boys. MAXWELL F. LAWTON.




ACROSS: I. A geometrical figure. 2. Pitchers. 3.
A water nymph. 4. To postpone. 5. To restore.
DOWNWARD: I. In water. 2. A pronoun. 3. To ac-
knowledge. 4. A tract of level grass land. 5. Aprickly
plant. 6. Secure. 7. A cave. 8. A musical tone. 9.
In water. L. M. Z.


THE farmer uses me as a hindrance and a protection;
I am of interest to those who study heraldry; every sea-
man dreads me; every reputable lawyer belongs to me,
yet if he frequents me he ceases to be reputable; to be
summoned before me is often a calamity; yet by musi-
cians I am considered a necessity.
I. IN laziness. 2. To entreat. 3. To furnish with
regular meals, for compensation. 4. Ardent. 5. To
moan. 6. Of a dark color. 7. In laziness.

68-25-13-78 are melodies. My.26-48-58-31-3 is a very
large animal. My 87-76-44-11-5I is damp. My 94-56-
33-52-23-29. was a Hebrew prophet. My 35-5-19-I2-8o-
72 is to call. My 39-20-15-82-63-74 is the state of being
well in body. My 41-28-47-92-49-17-1 is to allure. My
95-50-38-53-66-21-9 is lank. My 85-79-45-32-40-88-59
is bombastic. My 98-71-22-14-89-30-93 is a public thor-
oughfare. My 55-7-83-96-67-36-43 is a precious stone.
My 4-34-77-91-24-73-2-86 is direct. My 81-46-27-69-64-
10-62-57-16-60 is luster. CORNELIA BLIMBER."

I. ENGLAND and France once strove for me,
A stronghold of great fame.
2. A patriot martyr, noble maid,
In history bears my name.
3. I sit beside a summer sea
Near by a fateful mount.
4. The pig-tails run around in me
In numbers hard to count.
5. My palaces luxurious
Abound in rugs most rare.
6. A commerce vast and rich is mine,
My windmills beat the air.
7. A quaint old gabled city, I;
My wares the children love.
8. A great apostle born in me
Preached of the life above.
9. In my old castle, highland lairds
Once danced in tartans gay.
1o. And when my edict was revoked,
The Huguenots fled away.
II. I watch and wait the crescent's fall
Beside the Black Sea's wave.
12. "City of Palms" of old was I;
My queen, Zenobia brave.
13. By vengeful Sepoys, English blood
Was shed within my walls.
14. Near me, a fair but fated queen
Held court in castle halls.
A city old these primals spell-
She holds the Orient's key;
Fair, with her domes and minarets,
She sits beside the sea. F. A.
WHEN the words have been rightly guessed, and writ-
ten one below the other, the diagonal (beginning at the
upper left-hand letter and ending with the lower right-
hand letter), will spell the name of a Roman statesman and
SCROSS-WORDS: I. A stately mansion. 2. Salty. 3.
Any violent agitation of the mind. 4. Brought to an
end. 5. A college for women. 6. A coin. "BETSY."


EACH of the seven small pictures may be described
by a single word. When these words have been rightly
guessed, and placed one below another, in the order in
which they are numbered, the initial letters will spell
the name of a distinguished American statesman.
I AM composed of ninety-eight letters, and form a four-
line verse by Richard Henry Stoddard.
My 18-70-37-61 is one of the United States. My 84-
65-8-6 is to appear. My42-75-54-90 is noone. My 97-

I. IN school. 2. Timid. 3. A domestic animal. 4.
Divisions of time. 5. Arrogant. 6. One who appears
in a stage spectacle. 7. To put off. 8. A noisy feast. 9.
A color. Jo. In school. M. L. R.


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